Bleached Ink
by copycat-capycot
Summary: Whether they were Exorcists or different people in another world, there would always be a gray area for white and black to meet on equal grounds. Yullen ficlets. #63: Allen smiled, laced his fingers in Kanda's hair. "So help me write the ending."
1. Friends

**Title:** Friends

**Rating:** K+

**Genre:** Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

**Summary:** Friends are important, Allen realizes, when it comes to keeping him sane.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own D. Gray Man, so don't sue me.

**Notes:** Decided to format all of my previous chapters.

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_many people will walk in and out of your life_

_but only a few will leave behind footprints_

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Allen's word is black and white, with many gray tones in between.

He acts normally enough, smiling at Lenalee, paying sharp attention to Komui, joking around with Lavi, calling Kanda Bakanda, and more. His appetite is as healthy as heavy, his black side properly restrained until the mention of debts or Cross passes his ears. His arm is fine, Crown Clown being used more often than not. His stormy gray eyes that glinted silver with strong emotion betrayed nothing that showed something was off.

But the moment his left eye—his curse, his gift, his burden, his link to monsters—changes and turns into an unholy red, all he can see are black and white images. Black and white Akuma, their mouths open in a soundless scream, wild eyes wide with inner pain and suffering. To the other Exorcists, they are ugly creatures, minions of the Millennium Earl. They are a danger to society and need to be eradicated.

All Allen sees are enslaved souls, begging for freedom.

It breaks him to see the souls of the dead trapped in the bodies of Akuma, of human-eating machines. Whose fault is it really? The Earl's? The ones who summon their dead loved ones? Allen doesn't know. But he knows that he has to do something. He has to.

_Mana..._

For a while, after Mana's death, he continuously blamed himself for what had happened. Mana had been the only one to accept him, red wrinkled arm and all. Mana had been a father, a friend a warm body to hug. Mana had been the only thing Allen was living for. Mana had been his world.

And so when Mana died, Allen turned to a strange plump being with a long face, pointy ears, and a smile that promised no good.

"_You want me to revive Mana Walker?"_

Then Mana's soul had lashed out at him. Mana had cursed him. Mana had shattered his heart as well as well as his left eye, and Allen hadn't been sure what had hurt more.

_Innocence..._

The memories after had been fuzzy. More than a few nights have Allen resting his head on his pillow, trying to remember the details. He would clench and unclench his left hand, staring at the cross on the back, staring at the blackened nails and the marred red skin. Trying to remember back to the time when his Innocence first came to be.

"_Mana...?! No, don't do this to Mana...!! Run...run, Dad!"_

And Allen would remember that that had been the first time he had ever called Mana his father aloud. He had been too hesitant, too shy to label Mana as Father. But somehow, deep down inside, as the strange white claw-like appendage that was his left hand reached for Mana, he knew he had to say it.

"_Allen...I...love you..."_

Before Mana died.

"_Please destroy me."_

Allen loves the Akuma because he sees Mana in them. If Mana had been one of them... He wants to let them pass on peacefully. He wants to walk this path because of Mana.

But along the harsh road, other people found their way into his heart. Kanda, Lenalee, Lavi, everyone in the Order...

Soon, Allen's world isn't just black and white, with only gray in between. There is Kanda's dark hair that shines indigo and violet depending on the light. There is Lavi's bright emerald eye that takes everything in with keen intelligence. There is Lenalee's warm smile that reminded him of the sun.

_Everyone..._

_...thank you._

"Hey, Mana...? I love you. I'll always love you. But—right now, there are other people I love too. Other people I want to protect. Is that—okay?"

_Yes._

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**A/N: **First things first...

I finally decided to stop lurking, get off my lazy bum, and post something.

Second...

...Okay, I lied. There is no Yullen in this chapter. This is a collection of drabbles and not all of them will have Yullen. Some are just thoughts or reflections, and none of them are related unless I say otherwise. Anyways, I'm a newbie when it comes to writing fanfiction and I was using the typical Allen-Mana kind of oneshot to kick off.

Constructive criticism is welcomed.


	2. Gentle

**Title:** Gentle

**Genre:** General/Romance

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** Allen ponders on the true meaning of gentleness and its relation to Kanda.

**Disclaimer:** I'm dirt-poor and I don't speak Japanese. Good enough for you?

**Notes:** Yeah. Moving on.

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_another side of you_

_will you let me see it?_

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Kanda, Allen decides, is a lot of things, but the long-haired Japanese man certainly isn't gentle.

The swordsman just doesn't fit into the category gentle. He is cold, rude, brusque, easily irritated, rough, indifferent, all of that and more. But not gentle.

For one, Kanda has rough hands. Years of using Mugen has given Kanda permanent callouses, hence giving him rough hands. They aren't anything like Lenalee's which are soft and tender as she has only real use for her legs in fighting Akuma. Even Lavi's hands are considerably more pliant than Kanda's. But Allen loves to hold Kanda's hand anyway because he feels a little thrill inside of him every single time Kanda grudgingly links their hands together. Most of all, he loves how Kanda never gives his own deformed hand a second glance.

Kanda's hair is rather coarse as well. Granted, since Allen became his significant other, Kanda finally started to use shampoo instead of regular hand soap, but only because his Moyashi demands him to. More often than not, Kanda would tease Allen in his mocking manner for having a hair fetish. Allen doesn't bother telling Kanda it is true that he enjoys running his fingers through the long strands, and he enjoys doing so even more after Kanda's hair starts to soften and gain a silky texture.

Oh, but of course Kanda's mouth is anything but gentle. If Kanda doesn't swear at least a few hundred times a day, Allen would have been very concerned indeed. Death threats come pouring from Kanda like a storm But still, Allen loves it because it wouldn't be Kanda otherwise.

When Kanda kisses him, the older man would overpower him, dominated him, ravage him until Allen is breathless. None of the chaste, hesitant foreplay—no, no, none of that gentle, wishy-washy kissing.

When Kanda makes love to him—because they do love each other, even if Kanda is too proud to say it aloud—he would hold nothing back, forcing Allen to gasp out, "Kanda, Kanda, Kan—_Yuu!_"

But Allen loves it anyway. Because Kanda would freeze and whisper, "Allen", right before he comes. He would say in almost affectionate tones, "Allen", again and again until he is spent and collapses.

Kanda is not gentle. But Allen wouldn't have it any other way.

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	3. Yaoi

**Title:** Yaoi

**Genre:** Friendship/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Lenalee and Lavi explain to Kanda the meaning of Yullen.

**Disclaimer:** Bah. The only thing I own is this plot.

**Notes:** Nothing defined here. Kanda doesn't even like Allen in this AU...probably.

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_who's hungry for some_

_bean sprout action?_

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"_Yullen?!!!"_

Lenalee couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes at Kanda's half snarl, half incredulous gasp. So she didn't even bother hiding her exasperation.

"Yeah, Kanda. Yullen. You know, it's a combination of your name and Allen's name. Yuu. Allen. YuuAllen. Yullen."

"I know what it is," Kanda hissed, "but where the hell did you get the idea that I'm with Moyashi?"

Again, Lenalee rolled her eyes and picked up a magazine resting innocently on the table. "You know, despite being a top high school student, Kanda, you're not really smart." She tapped her fingers impatiently against the magazine cover and began flicking through it.

Kanda frowned when he saw the familiar light blue magazine title which he had spotted many times while waiting in the checkout line at Safeway.

"A _People _magazine? You read that kind of shit?"

Lenalee smirked slightly. "It's shit, but it's interesting shit."

(She decided not to dwell on how contradictory her statement was.)

The long-haired Japanese was damn near to drawing Mugen (a real sword passed down in his family which he carried everywhere; Lavi swore that Kanda was a wannabe samurai) and inflicting some sort of bodily harm upon Lenalee, but he knew he couldn't. Lenalee's nutcase of a brother, Komui Lee, was principal of D. Gray Academy and would be on him faster than Allen could eat. And besides, Kanda wasn't one for harming women anyway. So he stilled his twitching fingers and said quite calmly, Yullen and all of that fucking name blending is crap."

"Au contraire, mon ami," Lavi chipped in. Kanda blanched. Where had the redhead come from?

Lavi grabbed the magazine Lenalee had been holding and all but shoved it under Kanda's nose.

"See here, Yuu-chan—"

"_Don't _call me Yuu."

Lavi felt cold sweat as Mugen came sailing an inch away from between his eyes. Laughing uneasily, the one-eyed student moved Kanda's beloved family heirloom away from him with the tip of his finger. Seriously, why did Komui let Kanda carry around a _sword_?

He continued hastily, "Moving on, here's Brangelina."

"_Brangelina?!"_

"Brangelina," Lavi said, nodding his head sagely. He pointed at the displayed photo featuring the couple. "Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, also known as Brangelina. One of the media's favorite couples to scandalize and stalk and make rumors about."

"...What does this have to do with Moyashi?"

"You, Kanda Yuu," Lenalee broke in, "are obviously, painfully, hopelessly, and rather stupidly in love with Allen Walker."

She paused, then added almost as an afterthought, answering Kanda's last question, "So name blending isn't crap at all."

"...the hell?"

"I mean," the Chinese girl plowed on, "you're always fighting with him—"

"Because I _hate _that damn Moyashi."

"—you've given him a nickname—"

"Because he's not worth being called by his name."

"—and you always get pretty pissed whenever Rhode hugs or kisses him—"

"Wait, did she do that recently? I'll kill her!"

"Case in point," Lenalee whispered to Lavi.

"So!" Lavi broke into the deeply passionate debate and smiled, his good eye curved up in a "U" shape. "Go and get some Yullen action!"

"What's Yullen?"

The three stopped and turned very slowly around. Kanda's face was one of horror; Lavi looked uncertain whether to look amused or mildly frightened; Lenalee's face was a picture of pure glee.

Allen blinked at the variety of expressions that greeted him. "What's Yullen?" the white-haired boy asked again, looking puzzled.

Lavi opened his mouth, but a sudden movement from Kanda's hand, which had been drifting dangerously near the hilt of Mugen, silenced him.

"You stupid _usagi_..."

A dark aura surrounded Kanda. Suddenly, Lavi had the urge to run into the library and finish that tempting thick text on the top shelf, third from the left of the last bookshelves.

As Kanda chased the evasive rabbit, Lenalee turned to Allen, all smiles and big puppy eyes.

"Well, Allen, Yullen is..."

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	4. Poker

**Title:** Poker

**Genre:** Romance/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Most people know better than to play poker with Allen.

**Disclaimer:** Maybe it'll happen after I win the lottery, but for now, I don't own.

**Notes:** Blahblahblah. Whatever. Don't pretend that you're not here just for the implied sex.

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_hate the game_

_not the player_

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"Four of a kind."

Kanda jerked in his seat. Lavi gave a nervous chuckle. Lenalee just blinked from her comfortable perch on the bed and opened a box of chocolate Pocky (there had been no strawberry left). Taking out a stick, she munched on it for a few seconds before saying, quite bluntly:

"Allen, it won't kill you to lose just once."

Allen, who had gone back to shuffling the (rigged) deck of cards, simply shrugged, not even bothering to hide the growing smirk on his face. There was no such mundane action as "holding back" for Allen; his past years as Cross' disciple and scapegoat had done enough damage, and it was taking all of his self-control not to wipe the floor with his fellow Exorcists, seeing that they were all mere amateurs compared to his vast experience.

"Remind me again," Kanda breathed out harshly, looking down at the cards with a revolted expression on his face, "why I decided to play this _stupid, fucking game _with you morons."

"Me," Lenalee said calmly, snapping a Pocky stick in half.

"...Right," Kanda exhaled. Lenalee was probably the only person he couldn't threaten, although it was due more to her insane brother than her persuasive powers.

"Besides, Kanda, you need to loosen up," Lenalee was saying. "Strip poker's a great outlet, you know."

"But why did you have to drag me into this, Lenalee?" Lavi said, looking sadly at his poor hand.

Already Kanda was down to his pants. All of his other clothes (including but not limited to his Exorcist's coat, white jacket, black tank, hair band, shoes, socks, and regretfully, Mugen) were neatly piled up against the wall.

Lavi wasn't in good shap either. He only had a thin undershirt, his eye patch, and his boxers left to preserve the remains of his dignity.

"Lenalee," Lavi said again, "I don't think Komui's going to be happy if he sees you with us in our..." He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"No worries," Lenalee waved a Pocky stick at him before biting down on it, "I've seen better."

The redhead spluttered.

As Lavi and Lenalee engaged in a staring contest of sorts, Allen set down the cards and let his eyes rove over Kanda's form. Although he and Kanda had been together for a month now, he still wasn't quite used to seeing his boyfriend naked, never mind _half-naked. _And again and again, Allen was reminded of how utterly **sexy **Kanda could be. His long dark hair caressed his shoulders every time he moved, emphasizing the well-toned chest and... Silver eyes dropped below.

Kanda was also pretty _big. _

Noticing Allen's eyes glued to the area surrounding his crotch, Kanda returned his gaze.

Blushing furiously at having been caught staring, Allen hastily dealt the cards, hiding his face behind them, and said, "F-full house!" He tossed down the cards.

Lavi, for one unmanly moment, felt rather like whimpering in despair, but he was silenced when Lenalee gave him a glare. Meekly taking off his undershirt, the redhead resigned himself.

Allen's eyes returned to Kanda expectantly.

Not even bothering to see his own cards (bah, Allen wasn't even merciful enough to give him one pair), Kanda complied and stood up. He unfastened his belt, slid it out and dropped it to the ground. Allen watched, fascinated, but seemed rather disappointed when Kanda sat down again without making a move to take off his pants.

"Moyashi," Kanda said abruptly, "stop staring at me like that."

Lavi and Lenalee blinked.

"I wasn't _staring_," Allen yelped.

"Che."

"Stop making bedroom eyes at each other," Lenalee sighed. "If you really can't control your libido, then just get it on."

Rising up to Lenalee's challenge, Allen tugged Kanda's head towards his and promptly crashed their lips together. That broke whatever had been holding Kanda back, and he pulled his Moyashi against him, deepening the kiss as he dominated. Allen looped his hands into Kanda's hair, running his fingers through the soft strands and moaning softly. Kanda nibbled Allen's bottom lip, sucking on it gently, before moving back up to place a chaste kiss on the albino's reddened lips. Moving down Allen's neck, Kanda was about to bite Allen and leave a mark when he remembered there was an audience.

Lenalee had been staring intently, a slightly red flush covering her cheeks and a blatant "I SECRETLY READ SHOUNEN-AI DOUJINSHI" expression on her face. Lavi, on the other hand, had turned his head the other way so that his good eye wouldn't burn from seeing his two friends go at it.

Without further ado, Kanda drew back and began to drag the young Brit out the door of Allen's room. Allen seemed to come back from whatever paradise he had been stuck in and tried to release himself, but it was all in vain.

"...Hey, you two," Lavi called dazedly, "where are you going?"

"To my room!" Kanda snapped back. "And don't come in either, fucking idiot!"

The door slammed shut.

The green-eyed Exorcist stared blankly at the door. He knew about their relationship, of course, but that was the first time Kanda had touched Allen so openly without animosity. _'Yuu-chan's growing up,' _he thought tearfully with the manner of a father watching his son ride a bike without training wheels. _'You see, Yuu-chan? Love makes the world go round!'_

"Man," Lenalee commented, "I wonder how badly Allen will be limping tomorrow."

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	5. Bittersweet

**Title:** Bittersweet

**Genre:** Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Lenalee thinks about the finer details of Kanda and Allen's relationship and finds herself inadequate in comparison.

**Disclaimer:** I'm seriously bored from repeating, "I own nothing."

**Notes:** Yeah, well, upcoming one-sided Lenalee/Allen.

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_when the first love ends_

_you don't know how you'll ever get over it_

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There is a crushing sort of perfection that Kanda possesses.

(It is the sort of perfection that is fake, yet real enough to make her feel as if she is a mere doll compared to his beauty.)

Lenalee licks the lip gloss away from her lips—strawberries and cream—and wonders why she even bothers. It's not like anyone will ever kiss her, especially with Komui hanging around, but yet she puts it anyway as if it is some sort of daily routine, simply another action such as brushing her teeth. That is a half-lie: She does try to put on her lip gloss, but only if she learns that she is going on a mission along with Allen. It's hopelessly pointless and yet she can't help but stare with envy at Kanda's lips—no lip gloss, of course—that are a surprisingly soft shade of pink, a color she will never attain even with even with all the lip gloss in the world. She thinks of the soft pink shade and wonders if that is why Allen loves kissing Kanda.

After all, she is the one who accidentally walks into Kanda's room only to see them kissing and _anyone but Allen, anyone but—no, no, this can't be._

She runs her hand through her hair and wonders why she bothers with that as well. Her hair isn't as long as before and doesn't need as much maintenance, but still she gently shampoos it everyday and brushes it to a shine in the morning. It's not like anyone will run their fingers through the dark strands, except for Komui who will only muss it up by patting her head. And yet she can't help but glance longingly at Kanda's long dark hair (_Beautiful, _she thinks sadly, remembering when her own hair was the same). Even when tied up, Kanda's hair looks soft, silky, inviting. She wonders if Allen prefers long hair to short hair, but doesn't quite gather up the courage to ask.

But then, she is the one who always notices how Allen ejoys threading his fingers in Kanda's long ponytail. He only ever does so occasionally, when he thinks no one else is watching and Kanda relents by a subtle nod.

Accidentally bumping into Miranda as she passes her in the hall, Lenalee apologizes, exchanges a word or two of pleasantry, and moves on. She wonders why she tries to add extra sway to her hips as Allen walks by, seeing how he only ever smiles and greets her (like he does with everyone else) but never stops walking. She feels bitter seeing Kanda's effortless and wild grace as he strides down the halls of the Order, tall and proud and cold, commanding attention and yet managing to keep everyone at a certain distance away from him. He all but glides down the floor, bangs sweeping across his forehead in a carelessly beautiful way. She wishes she could have that kind of awe and respect sitting on her like a second skin and she wonders if Allen doesn't like clumsiness.

And she glances at them as they walk alone around the training grounds, thinking they are alone. Kanda is as graceful as ever, but his stride is slower and his gaze soft as Allen turns his face up towards him like a sunflower seeking the sun.

Even though she tries and tries with all her might to hate Kanda, to dislike him even a little, she can't do even that. In the end, he is the one who makes Allen smile the most. He is the one who makes Allen laugh, carefree and happy. He is the one who takes Allen's mind away from the Noah slowly taking over his body. He is the one who makes Allen happier than he could ever be.

And he is the one who comforts _her _in her time of need, never knowing how his mere presence makes her breath faster and her eyes harder.

She wonders if Allen does not like girls or just happens to like Kanda, a stray thought as she tries to justify why Allen refuses to so much look at her when Kanda is there.

(She does not use the word "love" when she allows herself to dwell on her own feelings for the Destroyer of Time because it is such a big word and saying it would be sealing herself out of Allen's heart forever and ever, doomed to have an unrequited... And she has learned that forever can seem short when she is young, but now it is achingly long.)

She wonders if Allen has ever heard Kanda say "I love you" because one fault Kanda has is that he never always says what he really means.

She wonders if Allen says it all the time to Kanda.

She wonders if Allen hates having to save her the few times he did.

She wonders if Allen likes how Kanda can save himself all the time and still have the energy leftover to argue and fight and carry on with life.

Walking down the hallway, she pauses by Allen's door. She stares at it, thinking of a boy who is nearly a man with gentle silver eyes and a smile that always squeezed her chest painfully. She raises her hand in a fist, tentative and thinking, asking, _what do I have to say anyway? Why do I come here? What if he isn't here? What if he doesn't want to see me for some reason? What if—_

And all of a sudden, she lowers her arm because she knows, by some strange feminine intuition that lurks in the back of her head that mocks her, that Allen is not in his room. And her footsteps lead her away from the door of the boy-turning-into-a-man to Kanda's door.

She stares and she paces and she raises her arm and she lowers her arm and she walks away and she walks back.

And then one word tells her to turn away.

"Kanda..."

It is somewhere between a groan and a moan, and as more sounds echo faintly from inside Kanda's room, she waits for the dismal fact to register in her mind. _Allen in Kanda's room... Allen in Kanda's room... Allen in Kanda's room... _And when ti does, she slumps against the wall and slowly sinks down. She buries her head in her arms and let the silent tears fall from where they gather in the corner of her eyes. She cries silently for one minute.

When the minute is over, she pulls herself together, wipes away the tear streaks, and walks away from Kanda's room _with Allen inside._

It's rather painful, her first taste of unrequited love.

_Bittersweet._

A small tube falls out of her pocket. Bending down, she sees that it is her strawberries and cream lip gloss. She picks it up, looks at it for a moment. Then she uncaps it, smooths it over her lips, and lightly licks her bottom one. Sweet.

She wishes that it was only a little more bitter.

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**A/N: **So I got this idea from Wikipedia actually. I was looking up D. Gray Man characer names, since I'm still pretty new to this fandom, and at the bottom of Allen's biography, it said, "He seems to be developing feelings for Lenalee."

I checked under Lenalee and it said, "She seems to have feelings for Allen."

I was pretty miffed at that and churned this out to express my displeasure at Allen/Lenalee. I love Allen and Lenalee, but I can only ever see them as chick flick buddies.


	6. Pregnant

**Title:** Pregnant

**Genre:** Romance/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Kanda and Lavi "discuss" male pregnancy.

**Disclaimer:** D. Gray Man would turn into a shounen-ai manga if I had my way.

**Notes:** I really need to expand into other genres, like Western or Sci-fi.

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_if two ones make one twos_

_can two twos make one ones?_

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Kanda deliberately put down his chopsticks with graceful, fluid motions that were perfectly in tune. The Japanese man leaned his cheek gently on the hand that was attached to his propped up arm. Then he turned to the Exorcist sitting next to him on the left, raised one dark elegant eyebrow, and said quite plainly:

"What the fuck."

Even the obscene word that came from his mouth appeared aristocratic and had the lilting tone that revealed the barest hint of a Japanese accent. Listening to the words wash over him and letting the tones and emotions flood his mind, Lavi thought surely that Kadna must have been some high born, noble, and most definitely foul-mouthed samurai or a young lord of some sort in his past life in ancient Edo, where—

The redhead snapped himself back from his distracting thoughts. Kanda's past incarnations could wait. There was a more pressing matter to attend to at the moment.

"Well, Yuu?"

"_Don't _call me Yuu."

Lavi was starting to sigh by now. Mugen had come barely a millimeter away from his nose at least a few hundred times a day repeatedly for a good number months, so the general threatening atmosphere tended to wear away. He all but bemoaned Kanda's lack of creativity, but _c'est la vie_, not all could hope to be as versatile and colorful as he.

"I'm just _saying_, Yuu..." Lavi paused dramatically.

"Is it true that you made Allen pregnant?"

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There were several ways Kanda knew he could react. All of them contained murderous rage in various degrees and levels, and possibly cruel and unusual punishment. The only problem was choosing which tactic to use. Certainly castrating Lavi would be painful and humiliating, but the somewhat more lucid and lenient side of Kanda deterred from such an _inhumane _act, and suggested gouging out Lavi's one good eye and feeding it to the ravens. Then again, it would be more fun to let the future Bookman to have a little head start, if only to make the thrill of the chase more exhilarating. Oh, decisions, decisions.

But Lenalee would have his head for doing anything like that to her boyfriend of two months, and having to reckon with Lenalee's warth was the same as having to deal with Komui in one of his less-than-sane moods. And after Kanda had experienced and seen firsthand how Komui had fixed his Innocence, he would rather not have to deal with the Supervisor if necessary.

Speaking of his Innocence, Mugen was still in repairs after the last mission. Damn.

The Japanese glanced at Lavi, who was grinning like the stupid idiot he was. _'Now he's just asking for it.' _Lenalee and Komui could go to hell for all he cared: Lavi deserved every single secondo f torture he was going to endure.

Kanda threw caution into the winds and settled for reaching his chopsticks again.

Lavi, blissfully unaware of his incoming demise, was thinking back to the time he had walked into Kanda's room, intending on calling out Yuu for some reason or another.

Seeing Kanda and Allen doing the _nasty nasty _hadn't been part of his agenda. Granted, he had been horrified to some extent, but more delighted than anything else. He had quickly turned his back to them as Allen restrained a very naked Kanda from murdering Lavi on the spot and had complained loudly, "Yuu, you could have told me _so _much sooner. Instead, I had to find out like _this. _What's the point of being friends if you can't tell me you're gay with a certain _Moyashi_?" At that point, Allen had glared and let Kanda reach for Mugen.

So absorbed was Lavi in his thoughts that he didn't see the sharping and eerily glinting chopstick point headed for him.

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"Kanda, he was just joking around. You need to apologize."

"Never mind that a guy can't even get fucking pregnant," Kanda growled from his spot on the bed. "I'm not apologizing to that idiot."

"I wasn't talking about Lavi," Allen said, leaning back on the chair next to the bed. "I was talking about Lenalee. She wasn't really happy when you tried to stab Lavi with a chopstick. And why a chopstick, anyway?" You _ate _stuff with that, Kanda."

"Che."

Allen paused in the middle of opening his mouth to make a sharp retort. Something was niggling in the back of his mind...

"Um, Kanda. It might had been my fault that Lavi asked you that."

"_Your _fault?" Kanda twisted from his perch to stare at his lover incredulously.

"That's because Jeryy-san made a new omelet he wanted me to try out, and I guess I was eating more than usual because Lavi asked me if I was having a craving and if I was feeling okay, and I _had _been feeling a bit sick, so then he asked if I had been throwing up in the mornings and—"

Without letting the cursed Exorcist finish his sentence, Kanda pulled on Allen's sleeve to drag him onto the bed. Cupping smooth cheeks, Kanda kissed him. Letting out a puff of breath, Allen pulled away slightly to lean his forehead against Kanda's. Silver eyes watched dark blue ones. Then Kanda kissed him again, working down the slender neck, nipping as he went.

And he went down...and down...

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Fingering the bandage on his head, Lavi sighed, downtrodden, as he padded through the hallway. Who knew that chopsticks were weapons of mass destruction? Or maybe it was just because Kanda could make anything into a weapon. The redhead shook as he remembered the sharp, pointy, and _dangerous _eating utensil. Thanks to Kanda, he would forever be spooked by chopsticks.

Speaking of Kanda...

Lavi stopped by Allen's room, and looked intently at the door. Last time, the _incident _had happened in Kanda's room. Did they do it in Allen's room too...?

Only one way to find out.

Pressing his ear to the door, the redhead suddenly jerked back as a very audible sound came out.

"Haa, haa... Kanda..."

"Gn..."

_'...Oh my gawd.'_

Those two were going at it like _rabbits_. Lavi wasn't sure whether to grin like a madman or to cringe in repulsion. Sure, he was happy and glad and all of that jazz, but it was still disconcerting to hear two of your best friends getting it on behind closed doors. _'Well, you reap what you sow.'_

He absently wondered how Lenalee would react to this development.

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A few hours later, Allen decided to go to the cafeteria, intent on filling it stomach with Jeryy's good cooking. However, as he opened the door, he found a small rectangular box on the ground.

It was a pregnancy test.

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	7. Conversation 1

**Title:** Conversation (Part One)

**Genre:** Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Kanda, Allen, and a play with dialogue.

**Disclaimer:** I'm bored, Hoshino. Spice things up. Imply _stuff. _Make people hug each other. Make them kiss. Make an orgy, I don't care.

**Notes:** _Really _bored, Hoshino.

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_you say one thing_

_i'll say two things_

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"Arsehole," Allen swore.

"Fucking Moyashi," Kanda shot back.

"Bakanda."

"Fucker."

"Kanda, you need to expand your vocabulary beyond 'fuck'. I mean, of all the swear words out there..."

"Piss off."

"There ain't a bathroom here."

"...Never again."

"...Sorry."

"Bastard."

"Jerk."

"Moyashi."

"Hey, enough with the sprout comments, dumbarse."

"Asshole."

"Jackarse."

"You need to expand beyond 'arse'. And it's _ass._"

"Shut up, Bakanda. It's a British thing."

"You think I care? I'm Japanese, moron. It's like telling me to eat spaghetti."

"Jackass. There, better? I mean, really, who holds it against a person for saying arse?"

"You have a weird fixation with asses."

"Says the one who calls me Moyashi."

"Stupid sprout."

"Same difference."

"Just come here already. You know what arguing does to me."

"Whoa there, Kanda. Enough with the bedroom eyes. Now's not the greatest time for sex."

"...What? I don't see anything wrong."

"Bakanda, sex is great. Sex is awesome. I'm all for sex. But now? Nuh-uh."

"Moyashi. _Now._"

"...Arse. Your _problem _is on my stomach."

"Deal with it. _Now._"

"Um, hello, Kanda? You, me, sitting in a cramped area with Akuma looking for us and your Innocence is busted and _my _Innocence is close to being busted. Not ideal for sex."

"Look, Moyashi, when we get back, Komui's going to have to fix our Innocence."

"But that does not mean there are grounds for raunchy porn—"

"So, we will be traumatized for a long period of time. Which means, no sex."

"...I'm listening."

"So we are going to have sex right now. Got it Moyashi?"

"...But the Akuma—"

"The fucking Akuma can wait."

"Arse."

"Moyashi."

"Bakanda."

"Can we get it on already?"

"...Fine, Kanda. But just this once."

"You said that the last time. And the time before that. And—"

"I get the picture, Bakanda. Now move your _problem _a bit lower. It's not comfortable when it's poking my stomach."

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**A/N: **Typed in five minutes. Horrible, horrible drabble.

...I love reviews. They really make my day.


	8. Argument

**Title:** Argument

**Genre:** Romance/Humor

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** When two people argue, it usually means they care for each other. Kanda and Allen take that to the next level.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned D. Gray Man, I wouldn't have put the series on a hiatus just after it was getting really really interesting.

**Notes:** Poor, poor Kanda...

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_you either love or hate me_

_why else would you think about me?_

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The first time Allen meets Kanda, it is at a little place called Lee's Sandwiches.

As he places his order, choosing a simple sourdough bread with roast beef and lettuce and tomatoes (his uncle, Cross, insists that he regulate his large appetite and Cross isn't shy when it comes to using his verbal lashes and punishment hammer freely), he watches the grumpy-looking cashier with long dark hair (who looks suspiciously feminine, but his deep voice says otherwise) take his order and argue with his coworker, a cheerful redhead wearing a headband and an eye patch, at the same time.

The way the two interact reminds him of an old couple—well settled into their little quirks, habits, and arguments—and argue just for the sake of arguing. The long-haired one snaps and the redhead counters quickly, like two people who have danced to the same music for so long that they have memorized the steps almost perfectly. He wonders if they are together. Allen is fully aware that—he squints at the name tags on their white aprons—Yuu, the cashier, is not the female he could be with his long hair, further proven by his constant swearing and black glares and decidedly flat chest (but of course Allen isn't looking).

Allen does wonder why Yuu seems to have crossed out his name on the name tag and scratched out "Kanda" in block letters.

Yuu calls the red-haired Lavi "Usagi", often attaching "Baka" or "Teme" before the endearment in a torrent of Japanese. Allen searches through the sparse Japanese vocabulary he has (he knew that "Baka" meant idiot or stupid) and ralizes that it means "rabbit".

Allen wonders if "Baka Usagi" is a Japanese way of saying "honey bunny" or something akin to that.

Sitting at one of those ridiculously high tables with the chairs that have long skinny legs, Allen continues to observe the "couple". They are fighting rather loudly, Yuu creasing his forehead and baring his teeth at Lavi. Lavi, on the other hand, is taking it all in his stride, grinning helplessly and shooting back with bright remarks.

Yuu looks dangerously close to strangling the redhead, Allen muses. But, Allen also muses, he has heard that the more two people argue, the more they care for each other.

Allen decides that it means that Yuu and Lavi care for each other a lot.

So deeply is he involved in his thoughts that Allen doesn't notice that he is very well near slipping off the stool that is not as safe as one might think. It is not until he actually falls off that he breaks out of his reverie and rubs his bottom ruefully.

The sound of a scornful cough moves his gaze to the counter, where Yuu is obviously smirking and Lavi is nowhere to be seen.

"Baka Moyashi," Yuu chides, still smirking condescendingly.

Allen glares. "Baka—" he pauses, trying to find an inspiration for an insulting nickname. Then hi silver eyes alight on the scratched out "Yuu" and the scribbled "Kanda".

"Bakanda," he mutters under his breath, pleased with his genius.

Unfortunately, Allen discovers that "Bakanda" has sharp ears and Yuu hisses, "What did you say?"

Shaking his bangs out of his face, Allen sidles up to the feminine cashier and plasters a very sweet and very fake smile onto his face. He is on a roll, and when Allen Walker is on a roll, especially during a game of poker, he isn't about to be stopped. "Are you deaf now, _Ba – kan – da?_"

Yuu's face contorts in fury.

"Fucking Moyashi," he swears, leaning closer to Allen, close enough for Allen to see the dangerous glint in Yuu's eyes.

Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all, Allen reflects woefully.

"Erm," he clears his throat, "look, Yuu—"

A bread knife comes sailing an inch away from his nose. Allen quakes. Where did that come from?"

"Don't call me Yuu," Yuu-now-renamed-Kanda emphasizes, waving the bread knife threateningly.

However, Allen is not about to give in yet. He throws away his fear of the knife (after all, Kanda would get fired if he actually used it on a customer...right?) and faces Kanda with all sixty-six inches of him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know that about _Yuu,_" he replies deviously. Kanda's eyebrow twitches. "After all, I barely know _Yuu. _It's not my fault that _Yuu _prefer to be called by a different name. This is the first time I've met _Yuu_, so pardon me, won't _Yuu_?"

Then, almost as an afterthought: "Won't _Yuu _hurry up with my order?"

Kanda snaps. It is one Yuu too many, and he launches into a full, blown-out rave that mostly has to do with castrating Moyashi, lynching Moyashi, subjecting Moyashi to Chinese water torture, dragging Moyashi to a guillotine, pulling Moyashi's ears until Moyashi looks like a monkey, slicing off Moyashi's hair and selling it to old geezers, ripping out Moyashi's heart and feeding it to the pigs, and so on.

Allen retaliates (after noticing the absence of the knife threat), and the two become absorbed in their childish verbal spar. The other customers try to politely nudge them back into reality and give their orders, but they receive death threats and curses in return. In the end, the stream of customers stop and there is no one else left in the sandwich bar.

Lavi, the redhead, saunters from the back and blinks at the scene. Kanda and Allen, flushed from exertion and anger, are staring each other down, both growling like animals.

Lavi whistles and asks if he is interrupting anything.

Immediately, Kanda turns away and moves to clean a table or two. Allen apologizes profusely to a bewildered Lavi who asks why he is being apologized to.

"For making your boyfriend angry," Allen says, bemused. "What else?"

Kanda's hand slips from where it is grasping a cloth and bangs the table hard. To compensate, he seethes, turns, and throws an empty plastic cup at Allen's head and the missile reaches its target. Allen yelps, glowers at Kanda, and turns back to Lavi, who is snickering softly to himself.

"What's funny?"

"Yuu's not my boyfriend. We're just good old buddies," Lavi says, chuckling lightly.

Allen flushes, flusters, and apologizes even more. It takes another ten minutes for Lavi to prepare his order, since Kanda never got around to it. It takes a second for Allen to scarf him down. It takes five additional minutes for Allen to apologize until he feels like he has apologized enough.

And, as he looks almost shyly over at Kanda, who is avoiding them both by vigorously wiping down the tables, Allen smiles and says very gently, "I'm sorry for...you know."

Only Lavi sees the faint blush on Kanda's cheeks.

As Allen finally leaves the shop, he realizes that Lavi had slipped something into his pocket, since Kanda didn't come near enough to have slipped slipped that something in. Taking out a scrap of paper, Allen reads incredulously:

"The more two people argue, the more they care for each other."

Allen crumples up the paper mortified.

Later, Kanda discovers a similar note in _his _pocket.

He too crumples up the paper, but not before thinking of silver eyes, white hair, and sweet smiles.

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**A/N: **...I am deeply sorry for not updating for a while. My muse felt depressed after seeing the latest DGM chapter and finding out about the hiatus.

Reviews, however, would make me feel significantly better.


	9. Illusion

**Title:** Illusion

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** Kanda finds relief from his illusions in Allen.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned D. Gray Man, I would at least give a reason why I'm putting it on a hiatus.

**Notes:** Yeah, um...if you don't understand the title of this chapter, then don't read—there'll be spoilers.

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_flowers blooming before my eyes_

_hiding you from me_

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Kanda once heard an interesting phrase from a conversation an arguing couple were having: "They've got you looking for a flaw for so long that after a while, that's all you can see." The couple continued to exchange verbal blows until both sighed, stopped, and cooled their heads before apologizing. The whole exchange hadn't stirred up any particular feelings in Kanda except for the one sentence.

Kanda thought that his life was a complete oxymoron of that line.

They—the Order, Central, that old man Zhu—knew full well that lotuses were all he could see, and they got him thinking that he shouldn't be seeing them; or at least, ignoring them. But the lotuses were no illusions. Lotuses, magicking from the ground wherever he walked in the Order, trying not to stare as a group of Finders ambled right through a little patch of flowers that were only visible to him. Lotuses, drifting from the sky like snow as he leaped from rooftop to rooftop, evading a persistent Level Two, cursing as the flowers obscured his sight. Lotuses, dancing before his eyes as he laid awake at night, staring up at the ceiling and waiting impatiently for the first hint of dawn to come so he could train.

And be away from those illusions, eating away at his life.

He covered his eyes with a cloth, blinding himself, while training. He mostly did so, he told himself, to improve his skills, to grow as an Exorcist. But the smaller, softer, and more frightened side to his complicated personality whispered that he just wanted to block those lotuses from his mind, to be able to face only peaceful darkness.

He only had vague first memories of Bak Chan and Renee Epstein. Renee did not change much, he recalls absently. Authoritative, commanding attention, but he could see that there was more to her than what everyone else saw. There was something darker lurking in her past, a heavy burden weighing her down. But he turned up his nose—Kanda did not care for her. She was merely another player in the game that brought him to life.

Bak was the one who life had really put through the shredder. The younger Bak had been overflowing with enthusiasm and self-righteousness. He had completely confidence in the so-called justice in experimenting and toying with human life. He was blind to what belonged in the "right" category and what belonged in the "wrong" category—or at least, had his own sense of justice. But, no longer. Now, there were lines under Bak Chan's eyes. He often looked at Kanda with droopy and furtive glances whenever they crossed paths. And the plead for forgiveness was nearly always present in his eyes.

Kanda scoffed. There was nothing to forgive.

And even if there was something, forgiveness could not turn back the clock.

"_You may feel that way, but that's not how we feel about you. It was our clan who created you in the Synthetic Disciple project that Central forced upon us nine years ago. Caught up in our dreams of 'Second Exorcists', it was my clan, the Chan family, and Renee's, the Epstein family, that made that huge mistake."_

Kanda had a distant memory of learning to _breathe. _That had been the only action that gave him trouble. He would inhale harshly, coughing, not sure how much air to take in. He would watch his stomach expand, he prodding the soft flesh in wonder, and his throat would throb with such sensitivity that he could _feel _the air scraping the insides in a painful manner.

Then he would exhale. He would feel something leaving his body and his form would crumple in on itself. Shaking slightly, he would breathe in and exhale again, watching his stomach slowly rise and then fall.

There had been little time for him to learn the little things of everyday life. Because soon after Kanda Yuu came to be, he was thrust into the role of an Exorcist.

Mugen. Innocence.

Akuma. The Millennium Earl.

Exorcist. Sacrifice.

Mission. And only the mission.

"_Kanda...do you still see the flower?"_

He wanted to feel horrified, at first. A young girl—barely six, sucking on her thumb like a baby still—suddenly morphed into an ugly, pitiful monster. He killed her—_it_—and wanted to feel horrified, to feel a shred of humanity.

He did, at first. But gradually, as he became used to finish missions with blood staining his uniform, he began to feel nothing. He was losing himself in this war...as was many other Exorcists.

And so he hardened himself. He would not be like some of the other Exorcists who became mere shells of themselves. He would survive, and live, with his mind intact. He learned to shut off all emotions, to set aside his feelings and to plunge himself completely into the missions. Get the Innocence. Kill the Akuma in the way. Finish the mission.

He never stopped again to question his purpose in life or even why he was doing what he was doing.

After all, he was created for the sole purpose of destroying Akuma and defeating the Earl, because he was on the "good" side and the Earl and his minions were on the "bad" side.

Kanda thought he had finally sealed away all his doubts for good.

"_I see... Let's keep this a secret, just between you and me."_

Allen Walker.

He was everything Kanda made himself not to be. Idealistic, naïve, soft. And most of all, he had a heart big enough to _love _Akuma. Kanda laughed madly—Allen was everything beyond his wildest dreams and thoughts. Allen took his past doubts and insecurities and made them his trademark.

His love for the Akuma both sickened and fascinated Kanda. From the first day they encountered each other to the first day they were sent on a mission together to the first day Allen whispered into his ear, thinking the Japanese to be asleep, "I love you."

That Allen could find some part of his ridiculously large heart to fit him in...

It made Kanda want to collapse and wonder what the heck he was doing with his life.

"_You mustn't dwell on it. It is just an illusion."_

Moyashi. Allen.

Bakanda. Yuu.

_I love you._

_I love you._

"_That flower is an illusion."_

He woke up, panting and breathing heavily. Lotus flowers greeted his vision with a perverse sort of familiarity. He rolled over only to face Allen's sleeping expression. Slowly, Kanda's tense muscles slackened, and he quieted and watched Allen sleep.

He pressed his forehead against Allen's. The cursed boy murmured something softly in his sleep. His eyelids fluttered and he twitched, but then he settled and continued dreaming.

That there was someone in the world who could accept him completely, who could love him despite his many sins and flaws...

Kanda's eyes fluttered closed.

_'This is not an illusion.'_

The two broken Exorcists slept on, finding peace within the other in the chaotic world they lived in.

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**A/N: **I'm sorry if Kanda appeared to be a bit OOC at the end. It just fit, somehow.

My D. Gray Man muse has been inflicted with something rather terrible. It contracted AHS, or Abundance of Hiatuses Syndrome. I have been feeding my muse with a steady stream of Yullen fanfiction, but unfortunately its bread and butter is new D. Gray Man chapters.

I am sorry for not updating sooner...but my muse is shot.

I also warn you all that pretty much everything in this drabble is just speculation or my own random thoughts on a whim.

...Huh. My DGM doctor just told me that my muse needs more reviews in its diet.

"A review a day keeps the doctor away."

...Please review?


	10. Identity

**Title:** Identity

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Noah, Mana, Kanda... Allen thinks about all this and more.

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love for it to be so, Kanda and Allen are not my gay porn slaves.

**Notes:** A pretty mundane, overdone plot...

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_tell me, what do you see_

_when you look at me?_

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Allen wonders who he is.

He looks into the mirror and feels his stomach drop, and not from the fifty sticks of mitarashi dango he consumes on a daily basis. Pressing a hand onto the smooth surface, leaving behind ghostly fingerprints, he waits. The shadow behind him leers back, the toothless grin mocking him like a crescent moon. The shadow occasionally wags its head, cocking the smooth round skull from side to side, but the blank eyes never leave Allen's. They stare straight ahead, into the object the shadow is reflected upon, sneering at Allen, "You're just my shadow. I'm your shadow now, but _I'm _the one whom Mana loves. I'm the one who's real." The dreadful grin widens.

Allen breaks the mirror one day.

Komui scolds him, but his words fall on deaf ears.

He hates it. He hates how no one will tell him anything directly. He hates how they say one thing but their eyes show pity, sympathy, hate, disgust, and worst of all, indifference. But they never say anything to him. He is growing up and already shoulders the responsibilities of an adult.

But he is still a child.

_Am I really going to kill someone I love?_

He wishes they—the Order, the Inspector, his watcher—would just come out and voice the whispered things behind their eyes. He wishes for that so he could just understand why this is all happening, and to him of all people. He wishes for honesty, integrity, and the truth.

The truth, most of all.

But again, the truth might not be what he wants. Isn't there the phrase "ignorance is bliss"? Allen wonders what he ought to choose, if given the choice. An unpleasant truth or a beautiful lie? He thinks that he once knew the answer, but now he is not so very sure of himself. Because he himself does not know who he truly is. Allen Walker...?

Or the Noah that Mana loved?

Who did Mana really see?

He wants to know.

And yet, he does not want to know.

_Mana, did you really love me?_

Allen desperately tries to find some semblance of hope. He tries to remain optimistic. He refuses to let these worries weigh him down, dragging him into despair. He cannot let fear and anguish take over his hand. Because he is afraid of what will happen if he does not hold on and try to smile. So he smiles because he cannot let anyone see how deeply he is embedded in the darkness. He smiles to escape, to divert prying eyes away from his vulnerable self.

Lenalee and Lavi both notice. Occasionally, Lenalee's gaze on him would soften with worry and sadness and fear, mirroring his own. Sometimes Allen manages to catch her off-guard and returns her gaze with something akin to defiance. She never turns her regard away in shame, but always looks at him straight in the eye, although the worry would disappear and be replaced by fake cheerfulness. Allen does not feel comfortable when people stare at him, but he never minds if it's Lenalee. Because she understands only too well how it feels to be used, to be a tool, to full feel the burden of an Exorcist's duties.

It hurts to look at her directly.

Lavi, on the other hand, doesn't waste words or petty glances. He plows through life, laughing and cheering and cracking jokes. He doesn't leave much time or room for dark thoughts. Instead, the future Bookman fills the pages of Allen's life with exuberance, pulling Allen behind him and forcing him to realize that life is not all bad. He makes Allen realize that even though there is war and death and that a Bookman shouldn't have feelings and an Exorcist is a mere pawn in battle, there are still friends and companionship and community and mitarashi dango.

Allen wonders if Lavi ever stops to think about the bad parts of life.

_I don't know who I am anymore..._

And there is Kanda.

Kanda isn't like anyone Allen has ever met.

Kanda always says what he thinks, or sometimes, he does not even bother speaking his thoughts, as if you are not worth such attention. He is never afraid of consequences, how others may view him, or what the higher-ups are really planning. Kanda is coldly beautiful, with his merciless mindset. He does not flatter or use pretty words or say one thing and mean another. Sometimes his harsh attitude annoys Allen in a way he cannot understand.

But he does understand.

He wants to be like Kanda.

Allen finds himself wondering what Kanda thinks about. He wonders why Kanda only ever eats tempura soba. He wonders why Kanda grows his hair long. He wonders at the strange and ominous tattoo on Kanda's front. He wonders at the exotic and foreign grace that Kanda has. He wonders at Kanda when he fights, his movements fluid and skillful and confident.

_Hey, Kanda...what do you see when you look at me?_

Soon, Kanda occupies Allen's thoughts all the time. Morning, afternoon, night.

Most especially night.

And soon, Allen finds himself longing to be in Kanda's thoughts as well.

Kanda is strong, but Allen wonders if the Japanese is more fragile than anyone thinks. One time, after visiting Bak Chan, Kanda returns looking weary. There is a pain in Kanda's eyes that Allen has never seen before, fresh and crisp. He wonders what could have broken Kanda, so beautiful and cold and strong. Immediately, Allen finds himself going up to Kanda and hugging him, much to the shock of the Finders near them.

Of course the long-haired Exorcist smacks him, but Allen can't help but smile genuinely.

Allen smiles because he notices.

He notices how Kanda looks at him as well.

Those dark eyes are questioning, wondering. They follow him wherever he goes, asking a question that Allen can't quite answer yet. Dark blue eyes meet silver eyes before darting away, embarrassed. Kanda's eyes are confused and unsure and Allen wonders if that is what his own eyesl ook like.

"Kanda."

"What is it?" Kanda asks, pulling away from the deep kiss they are involved in.

Allen hesitates. "What do you see when you look at me?"

Kanda's arms, which surround Allen, embrace him even more tightly in a warm and firm hug.

"Idiot. I see a Moyashi."

He taps Allen's forehead, poking it roughly.

"I see _you._"

Allen cries.

He finally knows who he is.

"You're my Allen," Kanda says gently before blushing, disconcerted.

"Then does that mean you're my Yuu?"

Kanda's blush deepens before he snaps, "You stupid sprout..."

_It's okay to be yourself. Because when I look at you, I don't see anyone else._

_I love you because you're _you.

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	11. Lists 1

**Title:** Lists (Part One)

**Genre:** Romance/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Kanda's lists do not include falling in love with Allen.

**Disclaimer:** D. Gray Man, updated monthly? Well, better than all of this hiatuses...

**Notes:** Yeah, another multi-chaptered plot bunny.

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_asking in one, two, three_

_do you love me?_

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Kanda didn't look like the kind of person who made lists. Not physical lists, mind you, but mental lists. Checklists, grocery-shopping lists (in theory, of course), schedule lists, you name it. There were also lists of "Most Annoying People" and lists of "Fuckers Who Should Die", although truthfully there wasn't a large difference between the two. It wasn't as if Kanda particularly enjoyed making lists, but it made his life more organized and soothed him on occasions when he felt like ripping apart Lavi (or anyone in particular) with his bare hands.

As it was, Kanda made mental lists almost on a daily basis. How many lotuses he saw today, how many times Lavi called him Yuu-chan, how many times he swung Mugen at Lavi and missed, how many sticks of mitarashi dango Allen ate...

But Kanda wasn't paying special attention to Allen in any way. Of course not. Not at all. Why would he pay attention to a Moyashi? It was completely illogical. And besides:

It was just another list.

Right?

The Japanese also had a list of things he would absolutely _never _do.

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**THINGS I WILL NEVER DO**

by _Kanda_

(NOT YUU-CHAN OR BAKANDA)

1. Die.

_I need to find _that _person._

2. Lose.

_Self-explanatory._

3. Get involved with this thing called Love.

_Lavi said that everyone gets involved with that shitty stuff. Like hell I'm going to be part of _everyone.

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Kanda was very proud that throughout his entire life, he had done none of those three. Certainly he'd been beaten to a mere inch of his life a few times, but he healed fairly quickly and sometimes he even got to kill the fucker later on. And true, he had lost in a poker game against Allen (Allen had insisted as to kill time during a mission in which they were on a boat for three whole days), but from what he'd heard from Lavi, about everyone lost to that kid in poker.

Besides, Allen _cheated._

Kanda blanched. He sounded as if he was whining.

And there was that sticky business called Love. Kanda had scoffed when Lavi had once playfully told Kanda that as much of a cold-hearted, unlovable, violent, cruel, prickly, grumpy (here, Kanda's clenched fist had twitched and Lavi decided to stop with the negative adjectives) ass he was, even he would find Love. Everyone met some form of Love at some juncture on the Road of Life, Lavi had reflected with what he had thought to be a sagely voice.

The whole speech would have sounded a lot more impressive if Lavi had left it at that, but it turned out to be one of the stupidest things the redhead had ever said. Maybe it was because Lavi had dragged him to a bar during a mission, got drunk, did a striptease, and nearly got raped by some weird curly-haired pervert who looked as if he spent every single day in his life tanning in the sun, and then plopped down next to Kanda to offer his advice on Love.

The clincher was when Lavi insisted that Kanda had to be in Love.

"You're drunk, moron," Kanda had said bluntly.

"Am not," Lavi giggled. "You've got the look, man. The Love look. You're just in De Nile."

Lavi had then fainted and left the bill and burden of carrying him to their inn to Kanda.

Quite besides the point, though. Kanda didn't love anyone. He loved Mugen (Allen often frowned upon what he called an almost abnormal worship he had for his Innocence), he loved tempura soba, and he loved...

...Well. Maybe he had the wrong kind of love in mind.

However, there had yet to be a woman to hold Kanda's concentration for even a minute. Lenalee was pretty enough, he supposed, but his reluctant admiration and affection for her ran no further than a cool friendship. She and Lavi seemed to be spending a lot of time together anyway, and Kanda held no envy towards the redhead. After all, there was still Komui in the equation, and if you wanted Lenalee, then you had to deal with the mad Supervisor in default.

Miranda was out of the question. The German could barely stand in his presence without quivering in fear. What kind of screwed up relationship would that be?

He didn't know any of the (few) female Finders well enough.

And Kanda wasn't bent. Of course he wasn't. Not at all. He nearly killed the last person who suggested that (which was Lavi, of course).

Therefore, the scoreboard ran: Kanda 1, Love 0.

So Kanda rose up from bed one morning, relatively pleased with himself and the world for once, trained for a couple of hours or so, cursed the lotuses less than he usually did, and then headed for the cafeteria to snag some tempura soba to cement his very rare good morning.

He made the mistake of standing behind Allen Walker in the breakfast line.

"Good morning, Kanda," Allen smirked at him.

His good morning was gone. Just like that.

Allen always produced the strangest reactions from him. The Destroyer of Time could ruin his day with a single critical comment like no one's business. Many claimed to actually _feel _the tension crackle between the two whenever they squared off, and Kanda too thought that he felt _something _when mouthing off the white-haired teen.

He assumed it was hatred, of course.

"Moyashi," he growled back, displeased.

"It's Allen, Bakanda," Allen retorted with no small amount of irritation laced in his voice.

"Che."

An uncomfortable silence came afterward, stiff and awkward. It felt as if both had run out of steam. Allen coughed lightly and turned his attention back to the front of the line, flushing for reacting so childishly, no doubt. The Japanese swordsman easily dismissed the younger Exorcist's blush, turned his head away, and proceeded to study the ceiling. Then:

"Sorry."

...What.

"What," Kanda said bluntly, not understanding the apology at all, or even Allen's reason for disrupting what he had considered to be a mild stillness.

"I said sorry," Allen muttered, scuffing a boot on the ground. "I just wanted to say 'good morning'. I didn't mean it offensively or anything."

He paused and raised silver-blue eyes to meet Kanda's gaze, clear and focused. For some reason, his chest seemed to tighten.

"You may be a completely bastard, but you're not so bad sometimes. I owe you that much."

Heat crossed his cheeks. Kanda thought that he must be getting sick even though he _never _got sick, but what else could explain the strange fluttering in his chest, the heat that must be from a fever, and the fact that his eyes couldn't move from the boy in front of them?

"I don't care if you hate me or not," Kanda said, finally breaking his gaze.

"It shouldn't be like that," Allen said quietly.

And then Allen _smiled. _He smiled—and smiled—and wouldn't stop smiling—and Kanda was quite sure that he was going blind because it was so fucking _beautiful—_

Whoa.

Hold that thought.

…

…

…

**REASONS I WOULD NEVER LIKE MOYASHI**

_He's a fucking guy. With a stick._

_He's a Moyashi._

_How does it work between two guys anyway? I mean, you have to have..._

_He's a martyr and naïve and cries too easily._

_I'm a guy. He's a guy._

_He's cursed. And I'm cursed. That's just twisted._

_I'm not gay. He...might be gay, but I don't care about that._

_If Lavi finds out..._

_I'm not in love. No fucking way. Love doesn't just happen like that, right?_

_I'm not going to fall in love._

_No way._

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**A/N: **I'm lazy. And I'm lazy. And...I'm lazy?

Even the latest DGM chapter wasn't enough to push me from the brink. And the news of DGM going monthly...

So don't expect a lot of updates from me.

Reviews are, as always, appreciated.

Oh, and there's a second part to this. And maybe a third. And fourth. And fifth. We'll see.


	12. Box

**Title:** Box

**Genre:** Romance/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Allen finds a mysterious box on his doorstep. Chaos ensues.

**Disclaimer:** Kanda will be mine. After I fork over a couple billion yen to Hoshino.

**Notes:** I suppose this has potential to be multi-chaptered... Meh, that's still in the clouds though.

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…

_peekaboo_

_i see you_

...

...

...

Allen stared at the package on his doorstep.

It was an unusual package in many ways; a package that was big and long enough to fit a very tall and large man in. The cardboard had various holes punched strategically on one end (Allen couldn't help but think that they looked an awful lot like air holes). Scribbled on the other end in black pen were the words, "Idiot disciple, let this thing die and you die. Corss", the last word written in a large and ridiculous flourish. There were dents all over the box, as if the _thing _inside was shaken violently on its journey to Allen's humble abode.

That, or it had struggled to get out.

Dear, dear.

"Anything from Cross is bad," Allen winced. He remembered a certain insect-eating plant Cross had once dumped upon his person, similar to a Venus Fly Trap...that grew like a motherfucker and ended up bigger than him...and shuddered. His cat, Timcanpy, peered at the "present" from behind his owner's legs and meowed in agreement.

Now...

To open or to not open, that was the question. Allen considered the pros—none that he could find since this was Cross—and the cons—too many for him to even feel comfortable with.

Maybe somehow, he could get rid of the box so that his mentor (Cross was a tough but fairly skilled man in their line of work, of which Allen pushed to the back of his mind) would never find out—

Suddenly, the box trembled and began to rock back and forth.

Allen stared at it (fearfully) for a full five seconds before making a decision.

Looking from side to side, Allen resolved to lug the curse from Cross inside his house before the _thing _popped out and ran away. After all, it was his responsibility now, now matter how much he disliked his foster father and teacher. Not to mention that the neighbors would be freaked out by whatever monstrosity Cross sent him this time. And besides, if it got away, Cross would eventually find out and have his head. And Allen liked his head where it was, thank you very much.

Pushing his sleeves up, Allen managed to drag the quivering package inside his house, grunting at the sheer weight. He pulled it into his living room with some difficultly, went back to shut and lock his front door (using all ten locks that he had especially for Cross; pity that his foster father was a master in breaking and entering), and turned his attention back to the package just in time to hear it _speak._

"Fuck, let me out!" The words were punctuated by angry rustles of movement inside followed by more muffled obscenities and death threats. "Cross, you bastard, I'm going to cut you up in so many pieces that—"

"A talking box," Allen snapped his fingers in presence of an "Ah-ha!" moment.

The box stopped talking. Allen blinked at the sudden silence. And then the impact of the whole situation and his own words finally skewered his lagging brain. "Dear Lord, it's a _human. _Cross sent me a slave! I knew that he had to be in on human trafficking, I just knew—" He began to flail, too shocked to form a coherent sentence afterwards.

"Who are you calling a slave?" the box that was not a human hissed. "Let me out, you fucking—"

Allen frowned at that. He felt a flicker of pity for the man—well, he was fairly certain it was a man—trapped inside the pitiful excuse of a box, but he didn't ask for this whole incident to be dumped upon his shoulders. And being cursed at wasn't helping his mood.

The white-haired college student gave a deep sigh. Oy vey. A fine Saturday this was turning out to be.

"Didn't you hear me? Let me out now—"

"Say please," the white-haired teenager shot back.

If he knew this kind of persona well, then he would bet his reputation as a professional gambler that the man inside was the type who had a ludicrous amount of pride bordering on arrogance. If Allen Walker was to bend to his master's will, then he might as well have some fun out of it.

The box went silent. Then:

"Over my dead body."

"That's just great," Allen shrugged. "I don't like Cross and I probably won't like whoever you are, considering he sent you to me. So you'll have to stay in that nice, cramped cardboard house." _'Hell, why am I trying to negotiate with a stranger inside a box sent by Cross?' _Still, he started to make his way toward the kitchen.

"Meow," Timcanpy said, pawing the box.

"Tim, don't take his side."

"Meow."

"Let me out, you fucking...you fucking Moyashi!"

"...Bean sprouts?" the Brit queried after a quick scan through what Japanese he knew. "My name is _Allen. _Get that through your thick skull, okay?" Rolling his eyes, Allen turned away before the box finally gritted out, almost desperately.

"..._Please._"

The Brit snickered.

"Good boy."

He found some scissors and snipped away at the tape until the person inside (who had been turning around and about restlessly from the sound of it) couldn't wait any longer and managed to kick out with a strong leg and break through the cardboard.

The box disintegrated before Allen's eyes, revealing the pale figure inside.

"Well," he blinked.

A very _nude _pale figure...with long dark hair...a murderous expression... On the whole, as a very bisexual and healthy young male, Allen could appreciate the pretty long hair that seemed to have an indigo shimmer and the intense dark eyes that bore through your soul and the well-built chest...

Silver eyes traveled down south before suddenly realizing what they were doing.

"About damn time," the man professed, sounding ruffled. He stood up and Allen gave a squawk before covering his eyes indignantly.

"Put on some clothes!" he snapped. "Do you want me to go blind?" _'No, I don't think it's my eyes we should be worrying about... It's my nosebleed...'_

Sneering, the man flicked his long hair aside, seemingly unaware of his nakedness. "Quit whining, Moyashi."

"_Allen._"

"Whatever," the stranger snorted, but he turned around nonetheless to spare Allen the sight of his...family jewels. Allen was, instead, gifted with the sight of a very nice ass.

"Don't just stand there!" Allen said, looking aghast and trying not to let his eyes wander more than they already had. Stupid, pretty, long-haired exhibitionist. "I'm not letting some weirdo who got caught by Cross stand in my living room in the nude."

A pause. And then:

"Well, unless you're a nudist..."

"Don't go there," the man glared. "And I wasn't caught by that damn womanizer."

"But the box says—"

"Shut up," the exhibitionist said conversationally. "And get me some clothes."

"You could at least give me a name."

"Kanda."

"...Kanda?"

"The clothes, Moyashi."

"It's Allen!"

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…

…

"So..." Allen began somewhat nervously.

"Kanda" was lounging in the living room, glancing around the room with impassive and unimpressed eyes. He was dressed rather plainly in Allen's biggest T-shirt which he normally used as pajamas, and jeans his best friend Lavi had left behind during a round of strip poker. The shirt was big; big enough to slip off one shoulder, revealing a long neck and smooth skin. The jeans, too, were loose on delicate hipbones, and Allen really wanted to just bend over and _nip_—

"What?" Kanda said.

Shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts, Allen replied, "If Cross didn't capture you, then how did you..." Allen gazed wordlessly at the box before shifting his attention back to Kanda.

Something twitched in Kanda's scowling face. He sat up straight and began to glare at the box in cold fury. If Allen hadn't been so busy worrying about what kind of affairs Cross had entangled himself in now, he might had found the expression rather sexy.

As it was, Cross and his smirking face and long red hair and evil gaze were in his mind and playing a fast and furious game of "paralyze Allen with mental images of all the debts he had to settle".

"That man," Kanda finally forced out, "left instructions in there."

He jerked a thumb at the general direction of the cardboard pieces

_'Instructions?'_

Allen crossed the room, his lips pressed tightly together at the sheet of paper resting innocently in the inner depths of the damaged box. He had failed to notice it before since Kanda was a more _distracting _sight. Leaning over, he plucked up the paper and read, his eyebrows furrowing together as he read more and more.

…

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…

**IDIOT DISCIPLE AND SON:**

**BY NOW, YOU WOULD HAVE RECEIVED A WHINY MALE BITCH WITH LONG GAYASS HAIR.**

**THE BITCH IS CALLED KANDA YUU.**

**AND LIKE BITCHES, THIS BITCH NEEDS TO BE TRAINED.**

**KANDA YUU WILL BE YOUR SLAVE. TORTURE HIM, CURSE HIM, FUCK HIM, I DON'T GIVE A DAMN. HE'S YOUR DAMN SLAVE, DO WHATEVER YOU WANT WITH HIM.**

**HIS IDIOT OF A FATHER, TIEDOLL, SENT HIM TO STAY WITH ME TO TRAVEL AND LEARN SHIT ABOUT THE WORLD.**

**I'M NOT TAKING THIS BITCH WITH ME, END OF STORY.**

**YOU GET TO KEEP HIM FOR THREE MONTHS.**

**YOU'RE NOT GETTING ANY MORE MONEY TO PAY FOR THE BITCH'S EXPENSES.**

**KILL HIM AND YOU GET TO GO BACK TO INDIA TO PAY OFF THAT DEBT OF SEVEN TRILLION RUPEES RACKED UP FROM LAST TIME.**

**BE GRATEFUL, IDIOT DISCIPLE. I KNOW YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH FREAKING RAINBOWS, SO HAVE FUN WITH THIS ASS WHILE YOU CAN.**

**CROSS MARIAN**

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…

Allen summed up his thoughts in two words.

"Well, fuck."

Kanda rolled his eyes. "Looks like I'll be staying in this hellhole for three months."

The albino glowered at him. Sexy ass or not, Kanda was, well, a bitch.

Kanda stretched nonchalantly, his abdominal muscles flexing visibly under the thin cotton white shirt.

Allen shamelessly watched.

_'Well, maybe three months isn't that long after all...'_

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	13. Lists 2

**Title:** Lists (Part Two)

**Genre:** Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** You can't force yourself to not fall in love. It just happens.

**Disclaimer:** Ha. If I owned D. Gray Man, then Yullen would be totally canon.

**Notes:** Well, if you haven't noticed, this is part two of the Lists installation.

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_falling in love with you is like_

_crashing into a wall headfirst_

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Kanda liked making lists. And recently, he had been making a lot of them. Normally, Kanda found lists to be boring but fairly useful when struggling to pass time or even to reorganize his thoughts. But for once, he was making lists from something that couldn't be farther from boredom...

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**ANALYSIS OF MOYASHI**

_He eats too much of everything. Fuck, his appetite is probably the reason for world hunger._

_He's a martyr. "I want to be a destroyer who saves." THAT CONTRADICTS, YOU MORON._

_Why the fuck does he always smile when he sees Lenalee?!_

_...Why does that piss me off?_

_He hangs around with Lavi too much, and I can't stand that fucking rabbit. They're way too close._

_...Fuck. Have to make sure Lavi doesn't notice that I'm..._

_Wait._

_I don't like Moyashi._

_There shouldn't be a problem then._

_Right?_

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…

"Are you feeling okay, Kanda?"

Kanda's head jerked up from his half meditation, half making-more=lists, and for a moment, he was torn between puzzling over Lavi's unusual inquiry into his well-being and the fact that Lavi actually called him by his surname.

The former won out, and he grunted an affirmative before sinking back into his thouhts.

"I wasn't talking about you physically, Yuu," Lavi said exasperatedly, reverting back to referring Kanda by his first name. The red-haired Exorcist was sitting on the stairs, leaning against a nearby column. "I know that your form is still pretty sharp after you almost killed that Finder the other day. I meant that you've been a bit moody. Well, you're always pretty moody, come to think of it—"

"Get to the point," Kanda interjected, Mugen tucked in his arms as he stared out at the courtyard.

Lavi pondered for a moment, lacing his fingers together as he struggled to sort out his thoughts in a manner of coherency and priority.

"Well, for starters," the future Bookman began hesitantly, "you don't threaten me that much anymore. I've been seeing a lot less of Mugen in my face and death threats behind my back ever half second. I mean," he hastily added when he noticed the glint in Kanda's eyes and the sudden caress he bestowed upon his Innocence, "not that I'm saying it's a good or bad kind of thing. Just, you know, different. And something big must have happened for you to act different."

"...So basically," Kanda said finally, "you want me to spill."

"Yes," Lavi said immediately, before realizing he sounded a bit too eager, "well, no, but yes—I mean, you're not someone who spills, but if you ever _did_, hypothetically—"

"No."

"...Wait, wait, time out... You can't just—so fast—without a second thought—seriously, just no?!"

"No," the Japanese repeated calmly. Seeing that Lavi was currently spluttering and scrambling for a comeback, Kanda took the opportunity to check the sun for the time, let his eyes slide shut, and began to comb through his mind for any information about the certain hour.

_'Moyashi usually comes out to train at this time of day...'_

His eyes snapped open.

Shit.

Him. Lavi. Allen. Together. Courtyard. Bad.

"But Yuu-chan," the object of Kanda's current worries finally squeaked out, "what if it's something, I don't know, dangerous or weird or has something to do with the Noah? What if they did something freaky to you? The war's bad as it is on our side."

Lavi leaned in earnestly towards Kanda, true worry shining in his visible eye. Unfortunately, Kanda merely grimaced at the idiot expression on the redhead's face which only served to make him even more determined to _get the hell out of here._

"Says the idiot who was seduced by a Noah."

Flushing, Lavi leaned back to his spot by the column and folded his arms while bringing his legs up against his body, a gesture that Kanda knew to be a sign of Lavi's growing defensiveness.

"He was really good-looking though..."

"Irrelevant. He's still with the Earl."

"Well, you didn't notice he was a Noah either," Lavi shot back.

"Excuses."

"Aw," Lavi began to plead again, "Yuu, you're trying to change the topic. Tell me what's bothering you—"

"I'm going back in," Kanda announced. He stood up, shifting Mugen so it was resting against his hip in its usual fashion, and made to head towards the cafeteria.

Instead, he walked right into Allen and smashed the younger man's forehead into his chest.

"Owww..." Allen muttered. Rubbing the aggrieved skin, he gave Kanda a half-hearted glare. "Watch where you're going, Kanda."

Kanda didn't hear a word the parasitic Exorcist said. Instead, his train of thought was happily running down the line of _'Moyashi's skin looks really soft...' _and _'it looks even nice with a mark' _and _'it would look really nice with _my _mark'. _His eyes were focused on the wide, almost childish silver eyes, the small nose, the full lips. In fact, he was so preoccupied with Allen that he failed to remember Lavi was watching the whole interaction with more than a simple curiosity and interest.

"Kanda?"

"What?" he snapped out of reflex.

Allen breathed a sigh of relief. "You weren't answering me. Usually you'd say something like, 'Che, move out of my way, moron' and then walk off. It's a bit creepy to find you staring at me instead."

"I wasn't staring at you."

_'De Nile, Yuu,' _Lavi snickered. So it had been Allen who was the cause of Kanda's strange behavior. No wonder, Lavi mused ecstatically to himself. He had always wondered why Allen and Kanda just couldn't get along and worked out their tension through verbal arguments and the occasional spar with the common _shinai. _He hadn't been alone in noticing the literal sparks that flew between them, but he always wondered if perhaps there was something _more _that neither of them had noticed yet. It had only been speculation and he was all but making a hurricane out of a breeze when he jokingly told Kanda that he knew the swordsman was in love...

"Hey, Lavi," Allen suddenly called. "Want a spar? I was going to meet Lenalee but Komui wanted her help on something else."

_'Oh no,' _Lavi quaked as Allen turned his huge silver eyes onto him just as Kanda turned _his _eyes on him. He pressed himself more fully behind the column and considered his options. On one hand, if he refused Allen's offer, then Allen would be disappointed... And he always felt like a bastard seeing those pretty eyes look downcast. But on the other hand, if he accepted...

_'Why did he ask _you_?' _Kanda all but seethed telepathically at Lavi.

_'I lose either way, don't I? Besides, you're forgetting that he thinks you hate him.' _Lavi shrugged his shoulders to signify the hopelessness of the situation.

_'Shut the fuck up and refuse him already!' _The swordsman had a vein pulsing in his temple as he said so.

_'You're mean, Yuu-chan... But since I'm your best friend, I will gracefully back down _and _give you a chance to talk to your beloved sprout.'_

"No can do, Allen," Lavi said, trying to look distressed and failing miserably since he was rather keen on not having his neck as Mugen's next target. "I took a break from running Bookman's errands and he's probably expecting me back. That old man's pretty strict about being on time and all that."

"Eh, is that so..." the Brit drooped.

"B-but!" the redhead quickly said. "How about you spar with Kanda?"

"With Kanda." Allen raised his eyebrows.

"Why not?" Lavi gabbled out. "I mean, you're here, he's here, you're both really strong, and IgottagoseeyouaroundAllen!"

"..."

"..."

"...Well, if you're up for a spar, Kanda..."

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…

Breathing heavily, Allen twisted his body to avoid the first that met thin air in lieu of his face which it had been aiming for. He attempted to reach for the arm to restrain it, but Kanda saw through his plot and snatched his arm back, dropped down, and lashed out to sweep Allen's feet from the ground. Allen avoided it by jumping and landed behind Kanda's back.

He knocked Kanda to the ground and bent to pin the older male down when Kanda brought up a leg and successfully kneed Allen's stomach. Grunting in pain, Allen backed off.

"Let's take a break," he suggested, massaging his abdomen and panting slightly. "We've been going at it for an hour now."

"Weakling," Kanda snorted, but he gratefully wiped his forehead, sank gracefully to the ground, and crossed his legs to assert himself in his meditation pose. For a while, he let himself bask in peaceful silence, the afternoon sun warming his cheeks. Allen laid on his back nearby, staring up at the sky.

"...Hey, Kanda?"

"Hn."

"What do you do when you're bored?"

One dark eye fluttered open, looked at Allen, and then fluttered shut again.

"Train."

"No one trains that much, Kanda."

"Che. You spend all of your time eating."

"Not true," Allen murmured drowsily, turning his face to the side and snuggling into the ground. He breathed out quietly before continuing, "You really don't do anything else besides train?"

_'I make lists...'_

"Hn," Kanda hummed in his throat. Right now, he felt really relaxed. The earlier sparring session had loosened up many of the tense muscles he usually had, even more so this time since it was _Allen. _In fact, Kanda didn't even feel like arguing with the Brit. This kind of peaceful banter felt...nice. Comfortable, even.

"Kanda?"

"Moyashi."

"It's Allen. And I spend my free time reading?"

"Reading?" The swordsman's eyelids lifted lazily to consider the other Exorcist. Reading? Really? He never pegged Allen Walker to be much of a reader, come to think of it. He didn't know that much about Allen in general.

And oddly enough, he didn't mind taking his time learning more about the silver-eyed Exorcist.

"I don't read anything special," Allen sighed. He pressed himself further into the ground tiredly. "I just look up to see if I can find anything about Innocence. The Earl. Anything."

_War. _Kanda twitched. A most unpleasant subject, and one he didn't think suited for Allen to talk about, and in such a dejected voice. "Any useful information about Innocence and the Earl would have been researched by Central already," he pointed out. "The Order wouldn't leave such valuable information for us 'sacrifices' to get our hands on."

"There is that," Allen sighed again, and he rolled over. "Hey, Kanda?"

Kanda nodded slightly.

"Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I wasn't..."

Kanda kept his gaze and even returned it, his dark eyes steady. He inclined his head, indicating that Allen could go on.

"If I wasn't..."

Allen's voice trailed off and he stared down at his arms. Or, more specifically, at his left arm.

He didn't need to finish that sentence.

Kanda knew.

He knew, and he understood.

They passed by the whole afternoon in silence without sparring again.

And Kanda fell a little more in love with Allen.

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**FURTHER ANALYSIS OF MOYASHI**

_He still eats too much. But at least he likes soba..._

_He's a martyr, but at least he knows what he's getting himself into._

_He stopped smiling at Lenalee after she accidentally kneed him in the groin during a spar._

_Heh._

_ButohfuckLaviknows._

_...That doesn't bother me as much as it should._

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**A/N: **This...turned out longer than I thought it would.

And I know the action's going pretty slowly, but I want them to take it slow. I'm not really fond of plots in which they both suddenly think "he's the one for me" and leap right into the bedroom. It's incredibly hard to avoid doing that though because...

Well. It's always fun reading lemon, right?

There will be further installations...but don't expect them anytime soon.

Reviews are, as always, appreciated.


	14. Memorial

**Title: **Memorial

**Genre: **Family/Tragedy

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Kanda tries to find some closure and Tiedoll can only laugh.

**Disclaimer:** I only _wish_ I owned Kanda and Allen...

**Notes:** Nothing much. Continue reading.

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_at the end_

_who really loses?_

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Frowning down at the tombstone, Kanda said bluntly, "I'm here, old man."

Tiedoll didn't respond for once and Kanda twitched. The silence was almost unsettling coming from the once chatty and fatherly man who had adopted him from so long ago.

"You had to kick the bucket before Daisya's graduation," the long-haired Japanese continued, his eyebrows still furrowed together in displeasure. "You know how much the brat whined and cried because you said that you would be there and instead, you're six fucking feet under the ground? You said that you would be at all of our graduations—Marie's, mine, Daisya's, Chaoji's. Daisya's pissed off at you for leaving him out, you know? Chaoji too. And now they won't stop whining down my back like crybabies."

Maybe Kanda was hallucinating, but he could have sworn he heard a heartfelt chuckle come from the grave. He wouldn't put it past Tiedoll to somehow manage to haunt him as a ghost or something stupid like that. That man was too attached to his foster children for his own good.

Scowling, he sat down on the grass, his posture stiff and uncomfortable as his white dress shirt pressed the dirt ground.

"Lavi said I had to come and pay my respects or some shit like that."

More silence. Kanda took the opportunity to fish several wilted and droopy carnations from his breast pocket.

"Allen gave me these," he muttered gruffly. "Took them out of his graduation flower bouquet. He said that I should visit you too."

The inaudible chuckle rang out again.

"You never got to know, did you, old man? Allen Walker? The short sprout from next door?"

A very slow and soft smile curved Kanda's mouth. It rounded his normally sharp and severe features.

"Yeah. It happened just like you said it would. We're...you know."

And suddenly, the smile dropped. "But that doesn't mean you're always right, stupid old man! You said that you would always be there. And I always told you not to be so fucking cliché and that you were going to..."

Kanda's voice fell into a whisper. "...die..."

His lips tightened and his voice barely quivered when he asked almost desperately, "How sick were you? How sick were you really?"

Tiedoll's laughter filled the air, soft and sad.

"Said nothing," Kanda grumbled to himself under his breath. "Nothing. Not one fucking word. I had to find you dead. I had to. I just had to. Coughing up blood for days, eating nothing, not one grain of rice. Nothing. And you still smiled like the damn idiot you are and said everything was okay. Small cold, little fever, only a few days at most. And what, you're dead now? It came to nothing."

His voice, which had still been at a whispering volume, rose.

"It came to nothing! You're dead. What's the use of that? Huh? Answer me!"

A deep sigh seemed to emit from the grave.

"I know, I know," Kanda snorted, suddenly straightening up and resuming his disapproving glare directed at the tombstone. "Everyone dies, even a senile old man like you. But still..."

He paused, trying to find the right words.

"Still..."

He sat in silence, staring at the tombstone, eyes roving over the words etched in stone:

**FROI TEIDOLL**

Loyal friend and loving father.

_The last one who laughs wins._

"Che," Kanda muttered, breaking his gaze. "I never did understand you. Not even when you're dead and not hanging around my back anymore. Now it's Moyashi doing all of the hanging.

And then Kanda blinked and tilted his head back to laugh. It was a surprised, breathy kind of laugh, the kind that expressed incredulous wonder. It felt uncharacteristic of Kanda, and the tombstone seemed to agree as it faced the Japanese with a severe air.

"Moyashi would have liked you. You two both have old geezer hair." Smirking, Kanda added, "There. Now I've won."

He left the carnations on the ground and didn't look back when he walked away.

Behind him, an old man laughed from the sky.

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**A/N:** Short, I know. And not much Yullen action...

Please review anyway?


	15. Delusions

**Title: **Delusions

**Genre: **Romance/Angst

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **Kanda meets an childhood friend and Allen feels so very alone.

**Disclaimer:** D. GRAY MAN UPDATED, HOMG. Oh, and I don't own.

**Notes: SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 188 AHEAD. DON'T READ THIS STORY IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE LATEST CHAPTER OF D. GRAY MAN.**

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_'cause I don't know anything about you_

_the harder I try, the more I fall, the farther you are away from me_

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Allen never knew that Kanda had a childhood friend.

But he did. Someone named Alma.

That hadn't bothered Allen much, at first. Oh, he wondered why Kanda had never mentioned Alma before, but Kanda had always been an extremely private person. And Alma had been very kind to Allen. He had shaken Allen's hand enthusiastically, a grin blooming on his face, as he said, _"So you're Yuu's lover, huh? He gives you a lot of trouble, doesn't he? Take care of him, won't you?"_

It was only until later that Allen realized Alma had called Kanda by his first name. Yuu.

But even then, it hadn't bothered Allen. Surely they, as little kids, had called each other by their first names and with endearments. It didn't mean anything, after all. Alma was Kanda's childhood friend, and that was that...right?

"_Hey, Yuu, Allen is pretty cute! How did a grumpy guy like you get hooked up with him?"_

_Allen blushed, but something cold went through his body when Kanda said:_

"_Wouldn't you like to know?"_

_Alma laughed easily. "Touchy. You haven't changed much, Yuu."_

_A half-smile crept up onto Kanda's face. "You're still the same too, Alma."_

"_What? Are you kidding me? I'm taller than you now. Taller! See? And my hair's longer than yours too." Alma grabbed a fistful of hair and shook it in front of the Japanese's face._

"_Che."_

"_Oi, oi," Alma complained, "your old friend comes to visit you and that's all you can say?"_

_Kanda laughed and Allen felt even colder. It was rare for Kanda to laugh—Allen himself struggled to crack a smile on his boyfriend's face. But then Alma came and showed up and Kanda was smiling and laughing as if he did so every day._

_An invisible door seemed to click shut between the albino and the two childhood friends, leaving Allen alone._

Kanda had also started to take days off from work to spend more time with Alma. Most of the time, Allen was included in these escapades, but he usually went through the whole day without speaking a word to either Kanda or Alma. There was no room in the conversations for Allen.

All of that space was left for Alma.

And there were those few times when Kanda had left without a word, only to come back and say, "I was with Alma."

_'But why didn't you say anything to me...?'_

Alma came over more and more often. Allen acknowledged that the two of them had a lot to catch up on, but slowly, gradually, a third plate was set on the table for dinner. A worn couch in the living room was claimed as Alma's seat. Alma even slept over a few times.

_'...Hey, Kanda, does Alma mean a lot to you?'_

As time went by, Allen realized that he and Kanda had stopped having sex for a while. He thought that it was because Kanda was being cautious, in case Alma heard anything during one of the nights he was sleeping over.

However, Kanda eventually stopped touching him altogether. The cold Japanese wasn't a touchy-feely person to begin with, but even then he hadn't rejected all of Allen's own touches either. Now, whenever Allen tried to hug him, Kanda would shrug off his arms before quickly making an excuse.

_'Did you two ever...um...that is...'_

"Hey Allen!"

"Ah..." Allen's spirits fell when he opened the door. "Alma. It's nice to see you again."

"Yeah, me too," Alma replied cheerfully, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Is Yuu in?"

Kanda was currently in the shower, but Allen didn't want to tell Alma that. For a moment, he was seized by the temptation to say curtly, "No, he isn't", and slam the door in his face.

"Alma?"

Kanda approached the door. He had just gotten out of the shower, evident by his bare chest and the towel he was using to dry his hair.

"Yuu!" Alma said, before suddenly frowning and turning the other way. "Ugh, put a shirt on! I didn't need to see that."

"Whatever," Kanda shrugged.

"Besides," Alma continued. "You're going to make your boyfriend jealous. Right, Allen?" He winked at Allen.

"Yeah..."

"Yuu, I was thinking about taking you and Allen to that restaurant downtown," Alma said. "And don't worry, it's not the Italian that you hate so much."

"Eh?" Allen blinked. "Italian?"

"Oh yeah, Kanda really doesn't like Italian food," came the reply. "He hates it, in fact."

_'...Hey, Kanda, why did you go to that Italian restaurant with me last week? Why did you never tell me that you...'_

"Sure, let's go," Kanda said complacently.

"Coming, Allen?" Alma said.

"Oh, um, I don't know..."

"Are you feeling okay?" Alma quipped, looking concerned.

"Mhm..."

But nothing was okay. Everything was wrong. All of it. And as he looked from Alma's worried face to Kanda's apathetic expression, he felt like screaming. Or breaking.

In the end, he did neither.

"I...actually, I don't feel that well." He attempted a disappointed face. "Maybe next time. You and Kanda go and have fun."

"Okay!"

The door shut and Allen slid down to the floor and buried his face in his arms.

_'Alma is great. He's wonderful. He's funny and kind and he understands Kanda.'_

_'He...understands Kanda.'_

He looked up. This wasn't his home anymore. Alma had come into it. Alma had come and he was here. He was everywhere. He was in the air Allen breathed, he was at the table, he was in the bathroom, he was sitting on his couch, and he was outside, laughing and smiling with Kanda.

"Idiot..." Allen let his head fall again.

…

…

…

There was laughter outside the house. Allen raised his head—had he been sleeping the whole time? The voices outside raised and Allen pressed his ear against the door to listen.

"Yuu...you know, I really had a great time today."

"Yeah. Me too, Alma."

"Yuu. You love Allen, don't you?"

"..."

"...Remember the promise when we made as kids?"

"..."

"We said we would never find our dream girls because then we'll always be together."

"..."

"But I guess you didn't find a girl after all. Ahaha..."

"Alma..."

"No. Forget it. I don't know what I was thinking. You should get back inside."

Silver eyes were downcast as Allen silently withdrew from the door and padded inside the house.

…

…

…

When Kanda finally entered the house, Allen was gone.

"Moyashi?"

…

…

…

A letter lay crumpled on the bed in their shared room.

…

…

…

_Hey Kanda_

_Cross called me and said I had to go traveling with him. You know, to pay off some of the debts he gained. That bastard..._

_India is pretty far away, but I'll be sure to send you a card every month or so._

_Don't know when I'll be back._

_Allen_

…

…

…

"You sure about this, brat?" Cross said, removing the cigarette from his lips as he frowned at his young charge. "Once we get moving, we're not stopping anytime soon. You might not get back for months."

"That's fine by me."

"Idiot..." the redhead blew a cloud of smoke. "In the end, you're just running away from your bitch."

"Don't call him that."

"You have to face him someday."

"Then someday. But not now."

"...Do what you want," Cross finally snorted and he put out his smoke. "Now let's get going."

…

…

…

Alma patted Kanda's back.

"We'll find him," he promised. "It's my fault, after all. We've always been too close for other people to understand."

"No."

"No...?"

"If that idiot sprout wants to leave, I'm not stopping him. Besides, it'll do him some good. Assuming that I actually would betray him like that..." Kanda stopped and glared at the wall. "Why didn't I notice sooner...?"

"Yuu..."

"He'll come back." There was confidence in Kanda's voice, but Alma could hear the doubt in his words, however faint it might be. "He has to come back. He loves me."

_'And you love him,' _Alma thought.

…

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**A/N: **I don't hate Alma. Really. I don't know enough about him to like or dislike him, so I'm reserving judgment as of now. And to be honest, I don't like the whole "I think he's cheating on me when he's not really" plot line, but it was what this story turned out to be when I was done with it.

Just to clarify in case you didn't understand...Alma and Kanda were never in love in this story even though it was implied. The conversation between Alma and Kanda indicated that as friends, they were extremely close and shut out everyone else. Now that Kanda has Allen, Alma feels a little abandoned and that Kanda has moved on.

I want my reviewers to know for sure that there won't be any updates in November because of NaNoWriMo, which is National Novel Writing Month. To find out more information, go to their website http : // www. nanowrimo. org (remove the spaces).


	16. Sparkle

**Title:** Sparkle

**Genre:** Parody/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Kanda is not amused by his lover's ability to sparkle. Or in this case, lack thereof.

**Disclaimer:** Oh, if only, if only...

**Notes:** I decided that formatting makes everything look neater. Go figure.

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…

_it's called glitter, darling._

_try it sometime._

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…

"You're a what?" Kanda said flatly.

Allen didn't bat an eyelid at his boyfriend's question. Kanda always was a little slower than most, he mused. "I'm a vampire," he repeated slowly. "Vampire, vam-pire, noun, and a corpse supposed, in European folklore—"

"No, I got that part," Kanda snapped, looking annoyed. "I mean, what the fuck? Since when?"

This time, Allen blinked. "Vampires are made, not born."

"Yeah, I got that part too," Kanda hissed, his temper fraying. "I mean, who the fuck changed you or bit you or whatever shit vampires do?" He paused, a look of intense concentration creasing his fale face, then frowned in sudden realization. "Vampires bites don't give you STDs or whatever, right?"

"It's not like having sex, Bakanda," the Brit said, looking bemused. "And for the record, I don't sleep in coffins or haunt graveyards."

"You know," Lavi said, grinning widely, intruding into the conversation and leaning on Kanda's shoulder as if he belonged there. "I always thought that you were a little off, Allen."

"Excuse me?" the white-haired teen said flatly.

"I mean," Lavi continued, unaware of the dangerous expression passing over Kanda's face. "The clothes, the food, the way you talk... Let's face it, you dress like a vampire. All you need is to borrow one of Krowley's capes and then you're set for life!"

"That," Lenalee put in, popping up magically behind Allen's back, "and you eat a lot. I'm assuming it's a desperate attempt to satisfy your bloodthirsty instincts, right?"

"Um, no," Allen said.

"And," the redhead beamed, "you have the most gorgeous accent."

"What?" Allen, Kanda, and Lenalee said flatly.

"It's like a given for vampires to be dead sexy," Lavi said flippantly, waving a careless hand in the air. "Something written in their genetic code. Really guys, haven't you read the books or seen the movies? And Allen-chan has the sexiest accent ever."

"Sorry, I think I may have slapped him too hard yesterday," Lenalee whispered to Allen.

"Why did you slap him?" Allen whispered back.

"Long story," the Chinese girl sighed, looking pensive at the thought of her red-haired boyfriend. "Involving my awesome leather boots, a glass of milk, and red pens."

Kanda was staring off into space, muttering something under his breath which sounded mysteriously like "must kill Lavi".

"So!" Lavi came back from Neptune and returned to Mars. "Got any superpowers?"

"...What?"

"Superpowers. Are you insanely strong? Can you breathe fire? Able to watch paint dry without getting bored?" Lavi listed off, looking more and more excited as he continued. Allen slowly inched away from one of his best friends, unconsciously moving closer towards Kanda. The Japanese pretend not to notice but could not hide the smug look on his face.

"Oooh, can you _sparkle_?" the redhead suddenly asked, his own eyes sparkling at the mere thought.

"Sparkle?" Allen looked as if Lavi had asked him if ducks could mate with geese. "Where on earth did you get that?"

"Oh, I've heard about this," Lenalee said, perking up. "It's some book series called something like Midnight or—"

"Twilight," Lavi grinned, flashing a peace sign. "You can't not know Twilight."

"...I have no idea what that is," Allen said, looking blankly at his friends, "but I don't sparkle. That has got the be the stupidest thing I've ever heard of. What does sparkling have to do with being a vampire?"

"Hey," Lenalee said, ignoring her white-haired friend, "so if Allen is Edward, does that mean Kanda is Bella?"

"I'm what?" Kanda came back from the dead and _glowered_.

"Huh..." Allen blinked. "That's not such a bad idea."

"What are you talking about?" Kanda said, looking bemused and trying not to let his confusion show.

Lenalee and Lavi shared looks. "Looks like Allen might get away with topping today," Lenalee suggested.

"WHAT?!"

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**A/N: **Attention everyone, I have a grave announcement to make.

The flue season has been unusually active this year. A new virus found just a few days ago is particularly effective. It is called the N1M1 virus, or the New Moon Syndrome. Symptoms include drooling over pictures of half-naked men with gold eyes or similar looks to Taylor Lautner. The pupils will be dilated and the sick usually tend to ramble on and on about their imaginary boyfriend Edward Cullen or Jacob Black.

The best cure would be to storm their house and burn all Twilight books (typically black with a white and red object on the cover) within the vicinity.

...Sorry, but I really don't like Twilight. And most of my friends have been going "SQUEALGIGGLEAWWW" over the new movie, New Moon.

This was a way to get the frustration out of my system.

Yes, this chapter was lame, pointless, and short. I'm still out of it from NaNoWriMo, but it was a great experience. I congratulate all other participants for undertaking such a huge task, and I highly encourage those who didn't participate to check it out next year.

I will most likely post another chapter this weekend...if I don't, you can file any complaints to Hoshino. I get plot bunnies from new chapters.

Reviews make me feel happy, as in "I got the last cookie in the cookie jar" kind of happy.


	17. Playground

**Title:** Playground

**Genre:** Friendship/Humor

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** First loves are always the weirdest. Especially if it involves a bean sprout.

**Disclaimer:** Seriously, you'd think that after saying this sixteen times... I DON'T OWN, OKAY?

**Notes:** I cranked this out on sheer force of will. The newest chapter of D. Gray Man was lurv, but it didn't give me as much inspiration as I hoped it would.

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_when i first met you_

_it was friendship from the start_

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Yuu scowled up at his adoptive father, Tiedoll. "But I don't wanna play with the other kids," the seven-year-old whined, dark eyes glowering. Craning his neck, he tried to intensify his glare to make up for his lack of height. Tiedoll just patted Yuu's head, chuckling, oblivious to the fact that his affectionate pat only served to further irritate his son.

"Now, Yuu-kun, I know that you love to spend time with the neighbor boy—"

"Lavi?" Yuu said, frowning. "He's an idiot."

"Yuu-kun!" The warm hand left Yuu's head and Yuu breathed in relief—he hated being patted on the head since it only reminded him how short he was. "Lavi likes you a lot. His father told me the other day that Lavi considers you to be his best friend."

The seven-year-old sneered; it was evident that he had picked it up from a television show and was trying to imitate it since the sneer came out more like a grimace. "I don't like him. He talks too much and he 'ugs me all the time even though we're boys and he says that hammers are cooler than swords. He tried to steal Mugen yesterday too."

"Mugen?" Tiedoll frowned. "You mean your plastic sword from your Halloween costume?"

Yuu nodded, looking excited at the mere mention of his sword. "Mugen is awesome! When Lavi took it, I chased him and then I hit him and then I got Mugen back and then hit Lavi with Mugen." He said this all very fast with a childlike satisfaction as if he had gotten the last chocolate milk in the cafeteria line.

Again, Tiedoll frowned. "Yuu-kun, I don't want you calling anyone an idiot, okay? That's a bad word."

The boy hmphed and looked away, crossing his arms.

"And I don't want you to hit Lavi anymore. If you do that again, I'll take Mugen away."

That caught Yuu's attention. His head whipped up again and he said possessively, "Don't touch Mugen. Mugen is _mine_."

"Then don't hit people with Mugen," Tiedoll said sternly. He crouched down to meet Yuu's eyes seriously. "Now, go on, go play on the playground. I want you to meet some new friends, and I don't want you to hit them or call them bad names." He paused, and then added, "Promise? I'll let you have a cookie when we get home." Tiedoll knew that he should be more firm with Yuu, but it was difficult—he was soft in the heart, and the slight hunch in Yuu's form was already making him feel like a brute.

Yuu sulked for a moment before reluctantly snapping out "kay" and padding out onto the playground, his gaze dark and his form sending off waves of ill intent.

Tiedoll sat on the bench and watched Yuu worriedly—maybe he should have brought Marie or Daisya along as well. At least they knew how to control Yuu's temper to a certain extent.

…

…

…

Yuu wandered around the playground for a while, hands stuck into his shorts pockets. The monkey bars were taken by a bunch of giggling girls wearing pink and talking about Hello Kitty. He didn't like the monkey bars anyway; they made his hands dirty and sometimes he got blisters which hurt a lot.

The slides looked boring and the sandbox was for little kids.

He looked at the swings. Right now, they were empty and he hesitated. He kind of wanted to go on the swings, but he didn't want Tiedoll to be watching him. Knowing his father, Tiedoll would say something about how cute he was.

The little Japanese boy frowned. He was not cute. He was a big boy.

Again, he stole glances from side to side before finally turning back to the swings. But then he stopped and furrowed his eyebrows together.

In the moments he had been lost in his thoughts, another boy had gotten on one of the two swings in the playground. The boy looked around his age and was swinging slowly, his legs swaying up and down. His hair looked kind of funny, Yuu thought to himself. It was white and silky-looking and it reminded Yuu of snow. It was kind of pretty but...only old men had white hair, right? The other little kids had brown, black, blond, or even red hair.

The boy on the swings lifted his head and Yuu blinked. The boy's white hair was pretty, but his eyes were _really _pretty. They looked like... Yuu struggled to find the name for the color. They looked blue and silver and gray all at once.

The boy seemed to notice Yuu and started. He almost got up from the swings, but changed his mind and sat back down, clinging to the swing chains tightly. There was a frightened look in his pretty eyes.

Yuu didn't understand why the pretty boy was scared. Did he look scary? He took a step forward and the boy shrunk into his seat.

"You," the Japanese began rudely.

The white-haired boy flinched.

"What's your name?" Yuu demanded. He took another step forward.

Pretty Boy trembled and mumbled something to the tan bark ground.

"I can't hear you," Yuu said.

The boy swallowed thickly and said, "Please don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me." He repeated over and over again like some sort of chant. The fear in his eyes intensified and he ducked his head again.

"Why would I hurt you?" Yuu asked, genuinely curious. The boy was weird.

"I..." Pretty Boy averted his eyes. "Everyone thinks my hair is weird." He sniffed slightly and seemed to tear up. "I dunno why, but no one likes me. No one plays with me either."

"Your hair _is _weird," Yuu pointed out bluntly.

A sob escaped the other boy, and Pretty Boy began to wipe his eyes furiously.

"But it's kind of pretty," Yuu added almost as an afterthought.

There was a frozen silence. Pretty Boy seemed to stiffen on his spot on the swings. After a minute, he left his arm drop and peered at Yuu with wide, tearful silver eyes. Yuu was close enough to see tears clinging to those long lashes and blinked, entranced. Really pretty eyes...

"My...hair is pretty?" the boy asked timidly.

"Yeah," Yuu answered. "It's shiny and looks like snow."

"Snow...?"

"It snows every winter," Yuu said, confused. "Don't you see it?"

"My daddy and I just got here. We used to live in a hot place that Daddy says is called India." The boy quieted before continuing, "Daddy's kind of scary. I a-xi-dentist-ly went into his room and there was a lady there and she wasn't wearing any clothes and Daddy got really angry. He said that I can't go into his room anymore."

"Huh," Yuu grunted. He plopped down on the other swing and began to kick with his legs. "He sounds better than my father. My father's annoying."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He always wants me to be good and play with other kids. I don't like that."

"Oh..." the boy looked downcast. "You don't have to play with me then..."

"Idiot," Yuu snorted. "We're just talking. We're not playing. Besides, your daddy sounds funny. Tell me more."

The boy perked up. "Daddy has really long red hair. It's really long. It almost touches the floor!"

"I want long hair too," Yuu said.

The boy looked at him. "Um..."

"What?"

"I..." the white-haired boy fidgeted. "I think you'd be pretty with long hair."

Yuu suddenly felt a flicker of...something. It felt like embarrassment, but it didn't feel bad like the time when he got in a fight with Lavi and he tripped while fighting, and a bigger boy called Tyki laughed at him. It was more like a good kind of embarrassment. "Hmph," he said, turning away. He wanted to say "thank you", but it felt too...weird.

He blinked. "You never told me your name. What is it?"

"Oh! Sorry. It's Allen."

"Aren?"

"No, Allen."

"Allen..." Yuu let the name sit in his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue. It suited the white-haired boy with pretty eyes. "I'm Yuu."

"You?"

"Yuu. But I don't like my name. My father is always calling me Yuu-kun."

"I like your name though," Allen said. "It's pretty."

Yuu frowned. "I don't like it though. I want to change it to something cooler."

"Change it to what?" Allen wanted to know.

"I don't know. But it has to be cool." He paused. "Allen?"

"Yuu?"

"Can I call you Moyashi?"

"What's that?"

"Bean sprout."

"But I'm not a bean sprout."

"I like bean sprouts though. And your daddy calls you Allen, right?"

"Well... He likes calling me 'idiot' a lot, but yeah, sometimes."

"I don't want to be like your daddy. I want to be special to you, so I'm going to call you Moyashi and no one else will, 'kay?"

Allen smiled. "Mm, 'kay," he said happily.

Again, the good kind of embarrassment seemed to flood Yuu's chest and it tightened slightly. Frowning to himself, Yuu looked at Allen's smiling face and felt his cheeks warm. He tried to convince himself that it was a hot day.

"Um...Yuu?"

"Moyashi?"

"We're...friends, right? We can play on the playground together when we want to, right?"

"Stupid. Duh."

…

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…

Tiedoll snapped a few pictures at the scene and smiled to himself. It was a good thing he had brought a camera.

"They're so cute," he cooed to nobody in particular. "I'm so glad Yuu made a friend."

But of course, not even Tiedoll could fanthom that this first meeting would be the beginning of a long friendship and eventual relationship. For now, though, the children sat on the swings and laughed and talked, not knowing that they would one day find love in each other.

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**A/N: **I usually don't like writing fluff. But then I think of a child!Kanda with a glare on his face... Oh, and I'm getting very fond of Tiedoll. He's starting to sneak his way into my chapters. Maybe I should try to incorporate some of the other characters...

No real Yullen in this chapter, but at least there's hinted future Yullen. The next chapter will mostly like be an angsty one or Lists 3...which will come out in the far, distant future. Honestly, I haven't been too motivated...

Your reviews, however, do make me happy. Very happy. So happy, in fact, that I may start considering requests from the audience...

Hinthinthint.


	18. Eggnog

**Title:** Eggnog

**Genre:** Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** A word of comfort over eggnog warms the soul.

**Disclaimer:** One kiss, Hoshino. One smooth between Allen and Kanda. That's all I ask for. Okay, fine, a _hug. _Is that really too much? I mean, it's Christmas!

**Notes:** Meh. Well, I was planning on making this a lot more angsty, but it'll do for now...

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_only in this moment will i_

_softly let myself be broken_

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Allen sat outside, breathing in the cold air. A cup of eggnog was nestled in his gloved hands. He lifted one hand and blew on it; it was truly regrettable that his gloves didn't do a very good job in keep the blood circulation going. A sudden chill breeze cut across his face like a knife and his throat seemed to throb in misery. Coughing slightly, he adjusted his scarf to fully cover his mouth.

Silver eyes gleamed in the darkness as he huddled into a ball, curling up on the stairs.

_'Happy birthday to me.'_

Dimly, he heard the sound of snow shoes shuffling behind him. A rustle of an insulated jacket, and Kanda was sitting on the stair above his.

Allen didn't need to turn around to see Kanda's eyes, dark and reflective. Neither did he have to imagine what kind of facial expression the Japanese would have on. It would be, he sighed to himself behind the scarf, inscrutable, slightly stiff, and awkward in all of its pale, aristocratic beauty.

"How did you know I was here?" he asked, his voice muffled by the cream scarf.

"It's Christmas," the dark-haired college student said by a way of replying. Allen made a small noise in his throat, and promptly winced as a harsh cough forced its way out. He took a sip of eggnog to soothe the burning sensation in his mouth.

"Sick?"

"Yeah. A cough," Allen mumbled through his lips, not daring to open his mouth to another cold wind.

"Why did you come to the party?" Kanda's eyebrows were furrowed as if he couldn't understand the logic of a sick freshman present at the annual Christmas get-together hosted by Lavi, a jovial senior. The building behind them echoed with a cacophony of laughter and party chatter, with an occasional sound of a champagne cork being pulled. Techno music was pounding behind them, and yet outside, in the white surroundings, it felt as silent as a graveyard.

Clearing his throat, Allen said quietly, "It's better than being alone."

The Japanese senior gave Allen a long, measured look.

"Well, I'm alone right now, but at least I'm outside. You know, with the snow..." As if to make a point, he lifted a hand and caught a snowflake in it. Kanda's gaze didn't falter and Allen slowly lowered his arm and returned to staring at his eggnog and the film of ice that seemed to have grown over the surface. The tiny crystals sparkled in the dim light and Allen felt just a little bit like crying for no reason.

Kanda let out a sigh that sounded more exasperated than it was sad. "It's Christmas," he repeated.

Slowly, Allen nodded.

"He doesn't hate you."

Allen was silent.

"Stop blaming yourself, sprout. Stop moping over something dead and gone."

"I..." Allen's lips parted. "I can't. You of all people should understand that."

Kanda let his eyes wander across the back of Allen's head. The freshman's white hair, as unnatural as it usually looked, was beautiful in the snow. It gleamed with little snowflakes that were steadily falling from the sky.

Frowning, he looked away.

"It's..." Allen seemed to struggle for words. "It's not fair, sometimes. I mean, most people have happy memories around this time. But I... It's not fair, but it's not as if I can do anything about it. And fairness really comes from your perspective, so I guess I'm lucky to some people but—" He was rambling, and it was starting to show on Kanda's face. The older male raised an incredulous eyebrow before huffing.

"Sprout. Just shut up for a moment."

"...Mana..."

And Allen was crying and _ohfuckitall _he was sobbing in front of _Kanda_ of all people and he couldn't believe that Christmas still managed to affect him this way because _Mana_ was dead and _hekilledhisfather _and it didn't matter if everyone said it was an accident because—

Because he loved Mana. And he didn't want to lose the people he loved.

"He doesn't hate you," Kanda repeated softly. "You're a goddamn _Moyashi._" Kanda's logic sounded twisted to Allen's ears, but he couldn't feel anything else besides the dull ache in his chest and the blurring image of the eggnog in front of him, the layer of ice melting from the hot tears streaming down his eyes.

Something shifted and a warm arm seemed to fall across his shaking shoulders. But it must have been a dream because when Allen finally looked past the tears obscuring his vision, Kanda was gone. All that was left was an impression on the snow-covered stairs where Kanda had been sitting. The snow steadily fell, carefully covering up the impression, and Allen sat alone on Christmas, holding an cup of eggnog.

It must have been his imagination when he heard two voices, one clear and kind like Mana's and the other deep and baritone; similar to Kanda's, saying, "Happy birthday, Allen."

_Thank you for being born._

_Thank you._

The eggnog was completely frozen. Allen deemed it useless for drinking, but didn't move from his spot. He clutched the cup and watched the snow fall gently, lovingly, onto his upturned face.

_'Hey, Mana? Do you see me?'_

Silver eyes traced the stars.

_'Do you still love me?'_

Maybe he was being delusional, but as the snowflakes fell, Allen felt something mend. Gradually. Slowly. But mending.

…

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…

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…

**A/N: **This came out a bit differently than I expected...but it's all good. I was going to post this exactly on Christmas, but I got impatient and decided to go for it anyway. I might post another chapter on Christmas, or sometime this week.

Sorry if this chapter was lacking in Yullen action. And it was a bit confusing, but I'll let the readers figure out the backgrounds on their own.

Like every writer on this site, I prefer reviews to alerts and favorites.

..._Not_ that I'm sending a subliminal message.


	19. Conversation 2

**Title:** Conversation (Part Two)

**Genre:** Romance/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Allen thinks Kanda has been avoiding him. Kanda begs to differ.

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, maybe after I buy D. Gray Man, I'll also achieve world domination.

**Notes:** Bad dialogue up ahead. Cranked this out just now.

…

…

…

…

…

…

_you've been avoiding me_

_or maybe i've been avoiding you avoiding me_

…

…

…

"Kanda, you've been avoiding me."

"...What? What makes you think I've been avoiding you?"

"I mean, we hardly spend any time with each other anymore. You go off on these missions and I don't find out until I ask Komui."

"Moyashi, don't going assuming—"

"What kind of relationship is this? You don't tell me these things anymore."

"..."

"And we haven't had sex in, like, weeks."

"...Urk."

"Yeah, choke on that."

"It's not like that—"

"What happened to my sex appeal? There's a lot of other people out there _dying _to sleep with me. And then you don't touch me for ages."

"I never said—"

"You think I'm ugly, don't you? It's the hair, right? You're always saying that you're going to sell it to the old men on the street."

"Not the hair, but—"

"Wait, don't tell me you've switched to women? Kanda! I can't believe you're ditching me for boobs and a vagina!"

"I—that—wait—_what?_ Why the hell would I sleep with a woman?"

"If not the gorgeous, sexy me, and not a big-chested female harpy... Oh no. Oh _no._"

"What kind of stupid conclusion have you come to _now?_"

"You know, Kanda, I'm perfectly fine with you being asexual. Frankly, I should have suspected it from the beginning."

"..._Oh, god._"

"The evidence is there. You've always had an unholy obsession with training and Mugen...and soba."

"_I have a perfectly healthy sex drive, and you know it, you fucking sprout!_"

"Prove it."

"...Now?"

"Oh, for the love of—"

"Look, Moyashi—I mean, Allen. I haven't been avoiding you, it's just that I'm running out of time—"

"Oh yeah, you bastard, you're running out of time in this relationship!"

"What? No! I meant that my curse—"

"Your curse? Oh, excuse me, you mean _my curse?_"

"No, no, I have to look for this person—"

"You _are_ leaving me for some girl? How scandalous, Kanda. I thought you were the more honorable type."

"You know what? I can't do this anymore."

"Fine."

"I'm leaving."

"Sure."

"Gone. Forever."

"Stop being so melodramatic."

"...Shut up, Moyashi."

"...My god, you really are avoiding me."

"...I've just been busy with missions."

"Yeah. I know."

"..."

"Sorry for being a...a jerk. It's not your fault."

"Yeah."

"..."

"...You know, Moyashi, if you want, we can..."

"Bakanda, it's going to take a lot more than that for me to forgive you right away. I'm topping tonight."

"No. Do that, and I'll tell Komui to stop feeding you. You're reducing our funds."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"...Tch. Bakanda."

…

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**A/N: **Really don't like how this turned out. Originally, I was going to post another angsty chapter, but...other things got in the way. It'll have to do for now...

If you hadn't noticed by now, I edited the first fifteen or so chapters of Bleached Ink so the formatting matched. There aren't huge differences in the plots, but if you like, you can go back and reread everything.

And for all of you looking forward to Lists 3, that's still in the works. Lists 3 probably won't be coming out for a while, so don't keep your hopes up.

Reviews are part of my diet. I need them as fooddd.


	20. Television

**Title:** Television

**Genre:** Romance/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Soap operas, popcorn, and Kanda, aka the perfect Saturday for Allen Walker.

**Disclaimer:** Oh man, I would totally turn D. Gray Man into some high school love story.

**Notes:** More humorous stuff...I'll have a more angsty one up someday...or sci-fi...

…

…

…

…

…

…

_like the love in dramas_

_you'll do anything for me, right?_

…

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…

"_You don't love me anymore, do you?"_

"_Wha—calm down, woman! Stop jumping to conclusions, for the love of—"_

"_You don't answer my calls, you come home late—what am I supposed to think?"_

"_Fuck you! I don't give a damn about your insecurity issues, just shut up!"_

"Now that," Allen says very seriously, "is why you should never date women."

Kanda is in the middle of glaring at the enormously hideous bowl of popcorn Allen has seated on his lap and only barely registers the white-haired male's offhand comment. Kanda has never liked popcorn, and he especially dislikes it at the moment because 1) it's greasy and tastes like _shit, _2) it's not soba, which pretty much crosses it off his list of Favorite Foods, and 3) Allen is eating them like nobody's business and just watching his Moyashi's pink lips move is driving him crazy.

(It's also a pain in the ass to hide his erection. Fucking Moyashi.)

This is even worse than the time with the popsicle. Kanda bemoans his fate before remembering his beloved boyfriend is still talking to him and about the dull people on the telly who are still having an argument that makes the trysts between him and Allen seem like confessions of love.

(It's some sort of soap opera and Kanda has already forgotten the names of the characters and the overall plot.)

"I mean," Allen is saying whilst frowning at the remote, "women are, like, another species. And who wants to have to learn another language just to understand them?"

The popcorn finally runs out due to Allen's colossal appetite. Allen gropes the empty container for a moment before realizing he has stomached every last kernel. He pouts at the empty bowl and ponders if he should get up and make some more because hey, it's food, but he's also missing the show, as bad as it is. Kanda takes the opportunity to change the channel.

(Kanda has no idea why they are even watching a soap opera.

At least it's better than the chick flick Allen once skimmed through on a whim.)

The new show has a lot of blood and screaming and mutilated bodies. Kanda watches, slightly fascinated (anyone relatively close to him has accused him of sadism, although Kanda thinks otherwise), but the blood is obviously fake, the detached hands and legs look plastic (which they probably are), and the main character, a stupid girl who jumps at her own shadow, looks constipated shouting as the monster mauls her body across the street.

Next to him, Allen runs a hand through his white hair and says, "Kanda, if you don't want to watch my show, then at least pick something decent.

Kanda ignores him in favor of watching zombies rip the heads off little children. Nothing like violence and gore to quell a hard-on.

"This show's even worse," Allen says to his empty popcorn bowl but makes no move to change the channel. He nudges Kanda with an unfriendly elbow who grunts in reply. "Hey, go and make me some popcorn," he demands almost childishly, shoving the bowl into Kanda's limp arms.

If Kanda had been in an unusually good mood, he might have complied with his lover's wishes with little to no complaint. But the gory television show is horrible, the wimpy actors aren't even trying to fight against the zombies, and the fake guts are just a disappointment. So instead, he shoves the bowl back at his boyfriend and growls, "No." All the while, his eyes remain glued to the very bad, very bloody movie.

"Kanda..." Allen's voice has reached a dangerous pitch. It has taken on the tone he only uses when he is trying to intimidate his card-playing opponents. And right now, Kanda knows that he is about to get chewed out.

"Bakanda, don't make me put on that Korean drama you hate so much."

"_Which _Korean drama?" Kanda shoots back.

Allen pauses. "Does it really matter?"

"...No," Kanda admits grumpily, and rather reluctantly. "But I don't think we have any popcorn left—"

A sweet smile makes its way onto Allen's face. "Then go buy some," he purrs, making Bedroom Eyes for good measure. Kanda's erection returns with vengeance and he swears at nobody in particular. Allen's eyes increase their focus and he's all but crawling onto Kanda's lap, teasing him.

"Please?" he breathes into the Japanese's ear.

Kanda shudders. "Just don't...put on some stupid drama," he says, his own voice coming out shakier than he wants it to sound like.

The moment Kanda's out of the house, Allen leans back on the sofa, picks up the remote, and cheerfully switches the channel back to the original.

"_I've had it! You don't do anything but make demands! Stop being a selfish bitch and listen to my needs sometimes!"_

"_I didn't mean to—that's not the point!"_

"_Then what is?"_

"_You're supposed to love me! If you loved me, you'd do anything for me!"_

"_What kind of sick, twisted logic is that? Shouldn't you do anything for me too?"_

"Soap operas, popcorn, and Kanda," Allen smirks to himself. "It's a perfect Saturday."

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**A/N: **I can't help but notice that when I write humor, I make Allen kind of...smartass. And bitchy. And...manipulative. Where's the sweet savior from the manga? _Where?!_

Ah well. Maybe I'll try to see if I can make him more in character in an angsty shot.

I really like this one, guys. I really do.

(Ish.)

So please review.


	21. Lists 3

**Title:** Lists (Part Three)

**Genre:** Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** At times, it feels accidental. As for other times...it's just meant to be.

**Disclaimer**: Bah. Japanese manga are so much cooler than boring old American comics...

**Notes:** And the long-awaited, highly-demanded Lists is back!

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_if it's not love_

_what else could it be?_

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…

**REASONS WHY MOYASHI MIGHT BE GAY**

_He...wears tight pants. What kind of guy does that?_

_I don't wear tight pants. Do I? Fuck it all, that doesn't work._

_He's got the fucking accent._

_But it's British, so all British people have the same accent..._

_Fuck. He's not gay, is he?_

_Fuck._

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…

…

There was no way of finding out if Allen was gay, or even remotely interested in him. And there was also no way of Kanda ever asking the white-haired Exorcist outright. He supposed that he could beg a favor from Lavi and send the redhead to question Allen, but the thought of being indebted to _Lavi _made him squirm in a ghostly resemblance to the way he felt whenever Mugen was broken and it was left in Komui's hands for repair. Not to mention, Lavi would probably spend more time teasing him for actually _liking _the very same boy he had snubbed in their first encounter.

Or Lavi might instead go on yapping about how Kanda was finally starting to rely on his friends and the usual cliché and overused shit about love. And then maybe he would start making friendship bracelets and have some sort of group chant before every mission. Kanda wouldn't pass it up for Lavi to actually do something like that.

Shuddering, Kanda shook his head. Lavi was definitely out of the question.

Chances were, Allen wasn't gay. Last he had heard, the sprout was attracted to Lenalee, and therefore, liked girls. Girls with round chests and full lips and curved hips. Girls who had high, sweet voices, slender forms, and smoky eyes.

Kanda took a peek downstairs. Nope, no hourglass figure.

_'Maybe he's bisexual...?'_

Huffing, Kanda pulled himself together and splashed more hot water over himself. Coming to the hot baths situated inside the Order had been a way for him to relax before, but for some reason, today he just couldn't release the tension from his shoulders. Instead, he imagined Allen, flushed and smiling, professing his attraction to a faceless and nameless girl.

The thought made him want to break something. More specifically, the faceless girl's neck.

The sudden burst of jealousy made him sober and rethink his thoughts.

It wasn't as if he loved Allen anyway. He just happened to be a little enamored by the Moyashi. It didn't mean that he had to actually confess his love or girly shit like that. He didn't want a relationship or even a friend with benefits; being an Exorcist left little to no time for trivial matters such as that, and Kanda had been on a rigid training schedule ever since Mugen became his Innocence. There was no way he was going to let some damn sprout with pretty eyes ruin what he had right now.

_'Although, he has really pretty eyes...'_

"Yuu?"

Visions of white hair and smooth, pale skin vanished from Kanda's fantasies and he scowled angrily as Lavi removed a small towel from around his waist and submerged himself in the hot water. The redhead paused at the dangerous glare thrown in his direction, but he continued regardless of the threat to his life in Kanda's eyes.

"I'll make this brief," Lavi said, trying to sound serious. "You like Allen."

Something between a cross of a grunt and a nod confirmed the statement.

"You really like him. You think he's attractive. You think he's amazing. You want to get in his pants."

"_Yes, _Lavi," Kanda grounded out. "I – like_ –_ Moyashi." He bent his head over, letting a curtain of hair hide his face from the world. "Like it fucking matters. It doesn't mean anything. He's just a brat."

"Well, just to let you know," Lavi was smiling again, and Kanda was really starting to hate that smile, "Allen's here."

Kanda jerked in his seat and nearly fell face-down in the water. "What?!"

"Lavi? Where did you go?"

A figure with Allen's voice appeared through the hazy steam that rose from the baths. Soon, Allen appeared, towel secured firmly around delicate hipbones and a smaller one lying folded on his head. He looked slightly annoyed. "Lavi, I told you to wait for me—Oh," he stopped, blinking at Kanda as if he was completely mystified as to why the Japanese Exorcist would be in the hot baths as well. "It's you," he said almost flatly.

Kanda felt himself wilt a little on the inside; the last time he encountered Allen, they had had a relatively peaceful conversation. What happened now?

The kicked puppy look in Kanda's eyes caught the redhead's attention. "Andddd..." Lavi drawled out, suddenly rising out of the water. "Sorry, Allen, got to go wash my back first. You stay here and chat with good old Yuu here, 'kay?"

And he was gone.

Allen coughed delicately before sliding into the hot water. Kanda was only slightly disappointed (slightly, he insisted) when Allen made no move to take off the towel covering his lower body parts. Instead, the parasitic Exorcist sighed, exhaling slowly, before leaning against the edge of the baths and closing his eyes wearily. Kanda watched him intently, taking note of the shadows under Allen's eyes, the creases his forehead had gained, and the new slimness to his already slight form.

"You look horrible," Kanda said bluntly. As much as he wanted to demand an explanation, he knew he couldn't force Allen to do anything. The younger Exorcist was under too many people's control already; who was Kanda to add more to his burden?

"Do I really?" Allen muttered. He drew a hand over his face before lowering his arm back into the water. "I think I've forgotten how to look fine."

"You're fooling everyone else," the Japanese shrugged. "The Finders, Central, your damn inspector..."

"They see only what they want to see," came the soft whisper. "An obedient dog who lets himself be pushed around just to prove he doesn't have rabies." Then Allen lolled his head and looked at Kanda with bright silver eyes. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I mean, you're a bastard."

"And you're a Moyashi."

"Hm." Allen didn't bother to counter and shut his eyes again. "It's kind of nice arguing with you. Good distraction."

_'Is that it?' _Kanda sulked in the corners of his mind. _'I'm just a distraction to him? Some fucking escape from reality?'_

As a visible rain cloud loomed over Kanda's head, Allen let his eyes fall down to Kanda's chest, where the mysterious tattoo inking the junction between his left shoulder and chest. A frown slowly spread over his face, and without thinking, he leaned closer until his head was all but in front of the symbol. A pale finger reached out and traced it gently.

Kanda jolted and looked down to see Allen crouching before him. Allen looked up for a moment before glancing back down. He let his palm spread over the symbol, covering it. Kanda felt himself stiffen at physical contact. He considered shoving the sprout away for a moment, but relented. Allen didn't seem on planning to do anything besides stroke the tattoo. It was strange that Allen would want to touch him so easily, but Kanda pushed the matter out of his mind and enjoyed the contact.

It wasn't so bad to have someone touch you, he decided. It felt nice. Allen's right hand was warm and slightly damp, and he was certain the sprout could hear his heart beating, firm and strong.

Somewhere, Kanda belatedly wondered if Lavi was watching all of this with a laughing green eye. The thought flew out of his head when Allen accidentally scraped his nipple. He tightened his mouth and forced himself not to sigh with pleasure. Allen didn't even seem to notice what he had done and continued to touch the tattoo with fascination.

Then his stomach sank when Allen opened his mouth.

"What does it mean?" Allen asked, eyes wide and curious. "This mark."

Turning his head away, Kanda frantically began doing the one thing that calmed him down.

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…

**WHAT SHOULD I TELL MOYASHI?**

1. It's just a tattoo I got one day on a whim.

_Fuck. He'll never buy that. He knows I don't do shit like that._

2. It's a curse.

_The truth? I don't want to have to explain everything else. Che._

3. It's not your business. Stop touching me.

_...He'll hate me. He'll hate me. I can't do that._

4. Say nothing.

_Maybe he'll leave me alone...maybe._

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…

"...It's a curse."

"A curse?" Allen's eyes widened. He made to move as if he would remove his hand from Kanda's chest. But then he paused and instead, switched to his left hand. Kanda watched apprehensively as gray skin met pale, and Allen smoothed his palm over the symbol.

"Moyashi?"

"And to think you gave me a hard time for being cursed," Allen said slowly. His bangs covered most of his face from Kanda's view.

"...You're not going to ask about it?"

"No." Allen traced the symbol again, careful with the long black nails his left hand had. "I know what it's like to be cursed. And I know the feeling when someone asks why. It's not something that's easy to explain, especially if it has a dark history." And then Allen curled his fingers inward and pulled away. "Sorry," he said, looking sheepish, "I know you don't like people touching you or anything."

"Che," Kanda turned his face away so that the dark flush settling over his cheeks wouldn't be seen. "Like it matters when it's another cursed person like you."

Allen stared, startled, and then laughed. It was a light sound that made Kanda instinctively turn his head to watch those bright silver eyes become brighter. If Allen could just forget, even for a moment, that he was enslaved to the Order as an apostle...

"Hey, Kanda?"

"Moyashi?"

"It's Allen, you moron. Don't think I'm letting you off of that."

"What is it?"

"...Does this mean we're friends?"

"Who wants to be friends with a cursed person?"

"Another cursed person."

"Che. Don't be stupid, Moyashi. It's obvious."

"...Obvious that only cursed people would be friends with each other, or obvious that we're friends?"

"What do you think?"

…

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…

**THE FACTS RIGHT NOW**

_I'm not in love with Moyashi._

_But it might happen. Or maybe it's happening right now._

_I don't really want this to happen..._

_But like the stupid rabbit once said, you can't control this kind of shit._

_Tch. Alright, you win, Love._

_I'm not in love with Moyashi. I don't love him._

_But I could._

_That's the tricky part to it._

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**A/N: **AHHHHH. This one gave me a lot of trouble. I kept getting stuck in certain parts, and it didn't go the way I wanted. But whatever, I'm done with this. Hopefully, the reviewers who were waiting for the next installation aren't disappointed. Like I mentioned before, I'm really trying my best to make this a realistic situation, and that does not involve them confessing their undying love and devotion from the get-go.

Oh boy, this turned out long though...it might as well be a oneshot.

I have a vague outline of the next parts... This is the third part to a five part series. Just a heads up.

And now some bad news. Updates to Bleached Ink will be more sporadic for a while because I, like many others, have school. (College is a bitch, ain't that right?) And by sporadic, I mean the time between each chapter may be up to a month long.

Sorry to my reviewers! I really appreciate all of you who reviewed, and those who put this story on favorites and alerts.

Well, you know what to do. Let me know what you think about this chapter since you're the ones who motivate me.


	22. Habitual

**Title:** Habitual

**Genre:** Angst/General

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** While in a watery prison, an experiment wonders about the possibilities of life.

**Disclaimer:** Nay! I own not! 'Tis a pity, but ah well, I wouldn't be writing this otherwise.

**Notes:** Kanda in his tank thingy. 'Nuff said.

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_if i stretch my hand_

_would i be able to touch you?_

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…

Dark and silent. Almost eerie and most certainly lonely. The strange sensation of liquid pressing his skin, enclosing him like a heavy embrace he couldn't possibly free himself from. He wondered what it would be like to feel _dry_ and to _hear _and _see. _Occasionally, the sound of a bubble would slice through the air like—like—

Dark and silent. That was all he knew. Darkness and silence was his world...and there was nothing beyond that.

He thought he felt something brush past his cheek. It was probably his hair, since there was nothing else in the tank besides what he had. And all he had was himself; a poor possession, he thought, as he didn't even know _who _he was.

For a moment, he considered trying to open his eyes in the water. It was something he attempted now and then—he couldn't say day after day, since he truly had no knowledge of time. Minutes dragged by as he remained suspended in space, the world living and moving outside of his small imprisonment. Perhaps they were too caught up in the flow of life to even consider there might be one, nay, _dozens _that longed for anything beyond a water-logged birthplace.

The pressure was too great. His eyelids would not lift.

Truly, sometimes he believed he might be the only one in such condition. He would be lying if he said he was confident of others in similar positions. Perhaps he _was _alone in his fate, doomed to remain in the dark until some kind hand pulled him out.

No, even that would be too much to hope for. What kind of kindness would trap him in such a place to begin with?

Yet, he had nothing to compare kindness with. In the end, he knew nothing.

All of his thoughts were meaningless at this point. He could curl up on his prison and ponder the meaning of life, but it all amounted to nothing if he could not live beyond his meager status as a—

Who _was _he? Who was to say he was even a he? Maybe, he was but a thing.

Dimly, he thought he heard mumbled words above his prison. He paid no attention to the voices—no doubt they belonged to the ones who had seen his birth and left him to grow, alone and without contact, in the dark waters. Their voices weren't completely inaudible, but he couldn't understand most of the clipped, business-like words they threw out like sharp needles piercing his skin—how he imagined needles would feel, at least.

He didn't know who they were, but he was sure he didn't like them.

What did he like?

Could a thing like anything?

Perhaps not. He could not possibly like anything if he saw nothing. He would forever count possibilities until the days of the entrapment in the water came to an end...and he did not know if that day would ever come to pass.

Perhaps his purpose was to remain blind in this cocoon. But what purpose would that be?

Did the noisy, lively world outside have any purpose? Or was it all a game to them, a game to live and die without meaning? If it was so to them, he longed to be able to trade places with a fortunate being and being to feel _dry _and to _hear _and _see._

He wanted to live.

But it was not a decision he could make.

Darkness and silence enshrouded him, protecting him from view.

Yuu dreamed of the day a voice would break through the surface and awaken him from his deep slumber in his small, dark world. Even if he could not live, he could at least dream of the possibility.

Like he had always done.

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**A/N: **Not much to say, besides if you've read this far, then it wouldn't be too hard to review as well.

Otherwise, I'll probably stumble into writer's block after writer's block until the next DGM chapter comes out. They just can't come out soon enough.

(School sucks, argh.)


	23. Rebels

**Title:** Rebels

**Genre:** Adventure/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** In a world where love is bought and lives are sold, where does a white-haired revolutionary fit into all of this?

**Disclaimer:** The day I own DGM is when Lavi turns to the dark side, Kanda shaves his head, Lenalee thinks rainbows aren't so rad, and Allen becomes anorexic.

**Notes:** I'm kind of iffy about this one. The summary implies more to this small chapter (I ain't changing da summary, it's awesome!), but should Rebels be like Lists, or a separate story on its own?

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_a glance over your shoulder_

_perchance, a meeting with a stranger_

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…

_Thwack._

Allen easily pulled out another dagger from his belt and spun the knife in his hand without glancing at it. Nearby, several of his comrades watched him in awe, wondering to themselves how he could handle weapons so gracefully without getting a single cut. Even as his arm snapped out and extended in a single fluid motion, the boy-man did not show the slightest reaction when the crowd gasped and then applauded appropriately.

To Allen, the knives strapped in various parts of his body felt as comfortable as a second layer of skin would.

The knife sank through the flimsy poster paper, embedded in the wood wall beneath. It marred the shadowed face of the Earl, his large, rotund form plastered over the paper like a death mark. The two knives pierced his stomach, and Allen imagined the trickling of blood that would fall from the wounds.

The Earl laughed at them all from the poster.

As the clapping eventually died, Allen slowly turned to face them. His eyes were set and his voice was clear. "I have gathered you all for more than a mere display of what is to come." He gestured, with a spare knife in his hand, at the shredded dartboard as the Earl's eyes watched them.

"We've waited in the shadows long enough. The small rebellious acts so far have done nothing to change this tyrant's mind—" here, Allen tapped the poster with the weapon, "—although we have warned him, time and again, that we would take action if he didn't listen to some of our demands, he has ignored us. It's time that we make well on our threat."

"Then what do you propose we do?" a man's voice called from the crowd.

Allen sheathed his knife, fastening it in a pocket. Then he turned swiftly, gracefully, to jab a finger at the poster.

"We'll kill him," he said, his voice too calm, too resolute, for a young teenager boy. "We've been preparing this for a long time. We will storm the Earl's palace, and we will end his life. It will happen, and by our own hands."

There was a breathless silence, as the crowd seemed to be drawn in to Allen's voice. Then:

"Load of bull."

Allen drew in his breath sharply, and looked at the speaker who was leaning against the doorway of the dingy bar. The people in the bar, too, seemed to gasp and whipped their heads around to stare. The speaker met Allen's gaze evenly, crossed his arms, and mouthed, _Just try and stick a knife down my throat._

"Pray tell, kind sir," Allen gritted his teeth, forcing him to make his voice light and courteous, "what would make my words, as you put it, a 'load of bull'?"

The stranger gestured freely with his right hand. "Look at your little band of rebels. Just look at them. Look at how...insignificant they are." His words were spoken coolly, with insults underlying them. He brushed back his long, dark hair and continued, smirking slightly, "Do you really think this is some play, in which the good will always vanquish the evil despite the odds against you? Surely you are not so naïve."

"I say, you do sound like you believe me to be blind," Allen was clenching his hands, his controlled expression taut on his face like a stretched rubber band. "I should think I would know better than to needlessly waste these good people's lives."

"I've seen rebels like you." The stranger's voice had gone from mocking to sorrowful, almost gentle. "You will end up becoming a mere sacrifice at the Earl's feet. You underestimate him."

"I am not!" Allen slammed a fist into the wall. The crowd murmured amongst themselves, shifting uneasily at the tension crackling between the rebel leader and the stranger.

"You are young. And reckless." The stranger's dark eyes seemed to gleam with hidden wisdom. "Your little rebel group will fall."

"And I suppose you know everything about taking down a dictator?" Allen's breathing had become heavy.

"Suppose that I do," the stranger responded.

"Would you be willing to join our cause?" Allen smiled his sweet, sweet smile. _'Of course he won't join. Chances are, he doesn't have a clue—'_

"Shockingly, I came here to throw my arms in," the stranger was smirking again. The stranger had a pale face with sharp eyes, and the smirk only made the eyes even sharper.

If Allen hadn't been busy trying to pick up his jaw from the floor, he might have thought the smirk handsome.

As it was...

_I hate you, _Allen mouthed angrily. He said aloud, "Is that so? It's good to have another one of us. What might be your name?"

"You can call me Kanda," the stranger said, his eyes dark and dangerous.

…

…

…

…

…

…

**A/N: **Yeah, okay, sucky ending. And kind of a weird chapter with no romance.

I have a bigger plot for this in my head, but I'm not sure whether to make this like Lists (aka, mapped out in sections in Bleached Ink), or write more on this before posting it as a separate story.

Let me know your thoughts.

(And guys, I know that the last chapter was pretty boring. But still, only two reviews? Can't say that I didn't feel like a kicked puppy...)


	24. Postcards

**Title:** Postcards

**Genre:** General/Friendship

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Childhood friends and their corresponding letters.

**Disclaimer:** What?! What?!!! Kanda had a past life as a—Ugh. Hoshino, you just love being a tease.

**Notes:** Er. I guess this could be set in the same universe as Playground, although it's not a sequel.

…

…

…

…

…

…

_the paper is blank_

_the pencil is broken_

…

…

…

Hey Bakanda,

Just mailing you one last postcard before the trip to China tomorrow. I almost got attacked by this scorpion that made its way inside my room this morning. Wouldn't put it past Cross to use that as a new wake-up call. India was the same as I mentioned last time—hot and sandy.

Honestly, I'm kind of glad to leave India. It's nice here, but most of Cross' debt collectors are in India. He seems to think it's easier to rip off of them.

(Well, duh. He's always leaving the cleaning up to me.)

Miss you. Tell Tiedoll I said hi.

Allen

…

…

…

Bakanda,

Oops. Forgot to give you the new address. Here you go; it's attached on the back.

Allen

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…

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Moyashi

Lavi got a stalker. He has a tan that makes your creepy cousin Rhode look like a dead fish. He also has fucking golden eyes; isn't that a sign of some disease? He's been coming over to _my _apartment because Lavi started hiding out here. He stands outside in the frontyard, _every single fucking day, _singing shitty Mexican music and strumming some _guitar._

Tiedoll's got this idea in his head that any guy who serenades the one he loves is a _good person _and _romantic _and _sensitive._

I tried getting Lenalee to come over so she can kick that guy's ass, but she says it's funny to watch.

So I've been spending a lot of time at your place. It's right next door, the stalker hasn't tried to break into it yet, and I get to snoop around in your room. Pretty fucking awesome for me. And I didn't know you had a diary.

I will be spending the rest of the weekend hunting for the key.

Kanda

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…

…

Kanda,

First off, it's not a diary. It's a journal. And it just happened to be locked because Cross shares your nasty habit of going through other people's possessions. Don't bother looking for the key; I disposed of it a long time ago. There's nothing worth reading in that journal anyway.

Oh, cool! You're going over to my place? You can feed that stray cat that likes hanging around. I felt bad for leaving it, so I asked Johnny from across to street to check on it now and then. I named it Timcanpy, so it should respond to that...

There should be a couple of cans of cat food underneath the kitchen sink.

Lavi's stalker? Wait...wait. Tanned skin, knows Mexican music, has golden eyes...

I think you just met my other cousin, Tyki. Last I heard, he was over at Europe studying British culture and getting all close to this millionaire who lives there... I forgot his name, but I remember he had some title like earl or something. Tell him that if he wants to win Lavi over, then he's going to have to do it through intellect (which means giving Lavi some of the antique books he really wants to collect; my cuz has enough connections to get his hands on those).

So far, China hasn't been too different from India. I still don't get the language, it's still pretty hot, and there are a lot more debt collectors than I thought. Cross spends every night out seducing Chinese women and eating his fill of Chinese food.

How's school? Am I missing out on much?

Don't cheat on a girl while I'm gone!

Allen

…

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…

Moron

Your cousin was a step ahead of you. He got a signed copy of some stupid book Lavi is completely in forbidden love with. Now those two are on a _date. _Lenalee tried to follow them "just to see what they were up to", but the stalker caught her less than a minute into their date.

Before you ask how I know all of this, Lenalee also tried to drag me along on her spy mission.

Alma came over to visit today.

Kanda

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…

…

Kanda,

Okay, you do not just end a letter with "Alma came over to visit today". What did he do this time?

Allen

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…

Allen

Nothing.

Kanda

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…

Bakanda,

You bastard. I'm coming back to Japan _pronto._

Allen

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Moyashi

You said you were coming back.

You didn't say that you were going to race over to Alma's place the moment your plane touches Japan, interrogate him on his activities, force the fact that he helped me get your ass back here because I'm lacking Moyashi out of him, and then leave without telling me anything. I had to get this all out of Alma.

And I found the key.

Kanda

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…

Bakanda,

You're lucky that Alma was such a nice guy and apologized over and over again for tricking me. And that he tried to defend you and pulled a "Kanda just missed you and didn't know how to say it" over me. Otherwise, I probably would have applied for residency here at China.

If you wanted me to come home, you could have just said so. I would ditch Cross any day.

Put the key down, Kanda. Bad boy.

Allen

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…

…

Moyashi

As if you'd ever have the balls to ditch that womanizer. He'd find you and drag you back with him to the depths of whatever Hell he came from.

Maybe if you come back and _stay _this time, I'll put the key down.

What's so secret about your diary anyway?

Kanda

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Kanda,

I wrote in it when I was in sixth grade and lost my first kiss to Fou.

Allen

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Moyashi!!!

YOU WHAT?

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…

**A/N: **(holds up her hands in self defense) I know, I know, not my best. It's lacking in the crackish/sarcastic humor that I usually have, but it took a lot out of me to even eke this out. I had to force myself to update because it's been ages. And I mean, really, letters? Completely overused.

I'm going to try and get something out for Valentine's Day. Really! It definitely won't be as long as my Christmas oneshot, but I'll try to polish it up.

Please review, guys. I appreciate the favorites and story alerts, but it's really not the same. I enjoy getting feedback from the reviewers.


	25. Lists 4

**Title:** Lists (Part Four)

**Genre:** Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Kanda's lists lose meaning when the person he cares for starts to slip away.

**Disclaimer:** You really think I would be sitting here, writing fanfiction, if I owned DGM?

**Notes:** This is the second to last part of Lists. I repeat, the second to last part. And a tiny spoiler for those who haven't read chapter 191?

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…

…

…

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_if i had met you sooner_

_would it matter if we fell in love later?_

…

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…

When it came down to it, Kanda couldn't really call himself a risk-taker. Sure, he put his ass on the line dozens of time during battles with Akuma, and he easily recalled a number of times when he all but dragged himself back to the Order more dead than alive. But he was too proud to call it risk-taking; it was more that he was confident of his ability to win in the end, or at least survive. Risky, perhaps, but not so much when he was certain he knew the end.

Besides, that was all during battles. Kanda was _comfortable _when fighting. It was something he had been born to do, the sole purpose why he had to stay alive. No matter how difficult the war outside got, he knew that being an Apostle of God was written in his genetic code.

There was no other path for him to take. No other options. Nothing.

He never counted on ever forming an attraction for anyone, never mind considering _confessing_, and to a man (boy, really). Kanda had never been one to reach out emotionally, and he was a mere grasshopper when it came to bonding with people. It wouldn't be too far off to say that Kanda would rather face down all of the Noah at once in favor of telling Allen he had strong feelings for him that actually leaned toward the positive side.

Yet, there he was, forming a new list in his mind...

…

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**WAYS TO CONFESS TO MOYASHI**

1. "I like you. Go out with me."

_...Did I seriously just think that? And how can Exorcists date?!_

2. "I find you incredibly attractive. Go to bed with me."

_No. Just...no. I'm not like that._

3. "Look, Moyashi, when a man loves another man—"

_Love?! What love? Where did that come from? I don't love him!_

…

…

…

After the strange but pleasant encounter with Allen in the hot baths, the two Exorcists had begun a tentative friendship. Kanda had been stiff with fear, thinking that perhaps Allen would brush off the incident and ignore him, but the British teenager had done the opposite. If anything, Allen made it out of his way to seek Kanda out for a good verbal argument or even just to bid, "Good morning." There was a warm shine in his eyes whenever he looked at Kanda, which stirred all sorts of interesting sensations in the Japanese's insides. They sparred together regularly now, and while they continued to bicker as before, there was a joking playfulness that accompanied their words.

It was an improvement, Kanda had to admit. Yet, not enough improvement for him to sort his tangled thoughts and emotions that ran a hundred miles per hour like a caged bird beating its wings frantically. It was a premature bird, not quite developed, not entirely clean around the lines. He didn't know what kind of bird it was either, and he wasn't sure if it really mattered in the end.

He could feel Allen's eyes on him sometimes. They seemed questioning, puzzling. They would flick towards his chest, where the tattoo thrummed under Kanda's clothing.

There was someone who understood him. Someone who was also cursed. Someone who knew that he was cursed.

Kanda was afraid.

_Pry into my heart, and seek what darkness there may lay. Pry into my heart, and see if you can release yourself from my grasp. See if you can escape._

He was lying on his back, staring at the clouds. He tried to lift an arm, flexing the sore muscles half-heartedly before letting his arm drop back down to the dusty ground. He rolled over and saw Allen a similar state, only a bit worse off for the wear.

"You're getting more and more annoying," Kanda said flatly.

Along the way, Allen had become versed in Kanda-speak, and knew the compliment as one.

"Thanks," the younger male muttered back, biting back a groan as a rock dug into his back. "Maybe one day I'll manage to knock you out. Like what you did the other day."

"Quit dreaming, sprout," the Japanese huffed back, panting slightly.

There was a peaceful silence. Surprisingly, Allen could be quiet when he wanted to. It was nice, Kanda decided, the kind of nice that he felt whenever he meditated with Lenalee. Sometimes, words just weren't needed.

_I like you. Go out with me._

"Shut up," he hissed at his thoughts, flushing when he remembered the list he had created that morning.

"Hm?" Allen hummed in askance.

"Walker!"

Kanda turned his head to hide the scowl forming his face as Howard Link marched up to them. The blond inspector hadn't been following Allen around for the last week or so because of certain "business", which both Kanda and Allen interpreted as doing secret work for Central. Much to Kanda's annoyance, Link had taken to planting himself firmly between Kanda and Allen whenever they interacted.

_'So much for an opportunity to confess...' _Kanda grumbled.

"Komui Lee is asking for you," Link said formally, stopping before Allen.

Sitting up, the parasitic Exorcist stretched to loosen a kink in his back. "Did he say what for?"

"No," the inspector said, tugging at his gloves suspiciously. "All he said that you should be—prepared. Let me escort you to his office..."

An uneasy expression half-formed on Allen's face, before he remembered that Kanda was present. Flashing a smile at the swordsman, Allen got up, flexed his arms a bit, and waved good-bye. "Sorry, Kanda—looks like we'll have to finish later." He smiled apologetically and made a small shrug.

"Un," Kanda grunted, eyeing Link warily. He laid perfectly still, waiting for Allen and Link to remain out of sight before bolting up to make a beeline for Komui's office. He ignored the Finders that stared at him, surprised to see Kanda Yuu in a rush with such an intense look splayed across his face as he dashed down the hallways, skidding slightly as someone spread his arms out in front of him.

"Lavi, get out of the way," Kanda snapped, barely registering the redhead's presence.

"Slow down, Kanda," Lavi snapped back, lowering his arms. "I haven't seen you like this ever. What happened? Is it Noah? The Earl?"

"It's Moyashi," the Japanese said impatiently.

"Allen?"

"Look, I'll explain later, but I need to get to Komui's office."

"Okay, okay," the redhead relented, rubbing his eye patch. "Just let me follow."

The door to Komui's office was locked, but Kanda pressed his ear to the door and strained to listen through the wood, waiting for a sound of Allen's voice. Lavi made a show with his hands, indicating that he could easily pick the lock and then the two of them could somehow accidentally walk in. Shaking his head, Kanda listened intently, and Lavi soon followed suit.

"—can take as long as you want, Allen."

"But...what's the point of this?"

"I'm not sure about the details myself. Supposedly Cross knows everything, and right now, we don't know where he is exactly. Most likely in Japan, we think, but you can't be too sure with that man."

"Is there any other way? And without my master?"

"I know that there isn't much time since there _is _a war going on. However, I'm willing to come up with an excuse for Central."

"And...what about Link?"

"I'll see that he doesn't find out anything useful."

"Alright, then..."

"Remember, Allen. The most important part about this mission is to obtain information on the Earl."

"I understand."

Lavi pulled away from the door to look at Kanda. "Did you know about this?" the redhead whispered urgently. "About Allen's mission?"

Kanda shook his head, his face taut.

"Kanda," Lavi murmured, looking slightly shell-shocked. "They're sending Allen to Japan. They—it's suicide. They want him to spy on the Earl. Kanda, there's no way the Earl's not going to know Allen's in Japan with all of the Akuma there."

Kanda's fist tightened. Allen going to Japan to spy on the Earl. Alone, more likely than not. On Central's orders? No, he was sure it wasn't the case; Komui said something about making an excuse for those bastards, right? But why? There wasn't any point for Allen of all people to go near the Earl... Unless... His mind flickered back to the fight at the orphanage one of the newest Exorcists, Timothy, had been raised at. He remember how Allen's eyes had turned gold, how he grabbed that Akuma's head, whispered—

"Kanda." Lavi was whispering to him. "Kanda. Are we just going to let Allen go to Japan?"

"You're a damn future Bookman," Kanda bit out, his voice coming out harsher and louder than he intended. Judging by Lavi's widening green eye and how it darted at the door, the redhead had noticed as well. "You're supposed to let these things happen, history and all that shit."

"But..." The future Bookman stared down, reason and emotion warring on his face. "But you _love _him."

The swordsman lost his breath. "What?"

"I see the way you look at him," Lavi was saying quickly, as if he was trying to get all the words out before Kanda came to his senses. "I see how you two spar. I—I've never seen that look on your face before. You act differently around him. You care about him."

"I don't—I don't _love _him," Kanda wheezed slightly, trying not to panic. _Love. Love. Love—_

_I love you...forever._

"You love him," Lavi said, and he sagged his head. "You do love him. And yet..."

"I don't love Allen!" Kanda roared out, blood pounding in his ears.

_Don't drag out my feelings. Don't sound as if you know everything about me, when I don't know anything about myself. Don't look at me._

"You do..."

There was so much anguish in Lavi's voice that Kanda looked up. "You..."

"You love him," Lavi repeated. "But neither of us can do anything. He's...he's going to die, Kanda."

Allen. Dead. The mere image forced Kanda to inhale sharply as—something—tightened his chest, making it hard to breathe. Allen in Japan, facing the Earl, battling his inner demons, letting the Fourteenth take over him—

"I don't love him," the Japanese muttered lowly.

"You—"

"...But I...I care about him," Kanda said slowly. '_Please, don't let his eyes turn gold ever again...'_

And then the door opened.

"Kanda?" Allen's voice came out tentatively. "You...what did you say?"

Kanda's head snapped up to meet Allen's anxious, silver gaze. Fuck. Did Allen hear everything...?

Licking his lips, Allen stepped out a bit, still partially hiding behind the door. "Kanda?"

The cold Japanese had faced down Noah before. He had been nearly killed more times than he could possibly remember. He didn't know life from before he was nine. He had to murder his best friend. And he had to let himself be used by the greedy bastards at Central.

Yet, as Allen looked at him, silver eyes tense, Kanda could do only one thing.

He ran away.

…

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…

**OPTIONS AS TO WHAT TO DO NOW**

(MADE WHILE RUNNING DOWN THE HALLWAY)

_Spend the rest of my life hiding from Allen until he goes to Japan._

_Stop Allen from going to Japan somehow and then hide from him._

_Pretend nothing happened and figure out a way to keep Lavi's mouth shut._

_Properly tell Allen my feelings. And then...I don't konw._

_Emigrate to China._

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**A/N: **Hah! You thought they were going to get together in this chapter? Not in my story. Although, the running-away-after-accidentally-blurting-out-thy-feelings scenario is pretty common, now that I think about it.

One more installation of Lists, guys. And possibly an epilogue, which will depend.


	26. Doorstep

**Title:** Doorstep

**Genre:** Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** A beautiful stranger was the last thing Kanda expected after learning he had AIDS.

**Disclaimer:** I own neither DGM or RENT.

**Notes:** Uh, yeah, a DGM/RENT crossover thingy... I copied no direct quotes from the actual musical since I haven't watched it, but I know the basic plot. Anyway, if you don't know what RENT is, don't worry; this chapter can also stand by itself.

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_won't you please_

_darken my doorstep again?_

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He had refused to leave his room for days.

Lenalee paused by the doorway, lingering hesitantly. Pressing a hand against the door, she leaned on it so the door cracked open by a bare six inches. "Kanda...?" she called softly into the darkness. She heard him stirring gently, but received no response. She hadn't expected one, but the silence still cut her sharply. Swallowing past a lump in her throat, she said firmly, "Kanda, I think you should really get out."

A light flickered on, and a disheveled-looking man sat up on his bed, running his fingers through his long dark hair. There were rings under his eyes which had a droopy, haunted expression in them. He lifted his head and yawned, revealing his throat, pale from his self-exile.

"You turning that camera on me?" his voice, husky and tired, asked.

Lenalee glanced down at the video camera in her other hand. "Maybe another day," she said at last. "That documentary can wait."

Kanda grunted and lifted himself up from the bed. He stumbled into the bathroom and Lenalee heard the sounds of water running. She leaned against a wall and played with the buttons on the camera. Slowly, she lifted it, and turned it to Kanda as he exited the bathroom. He waved it off with a slightly annoyed air, but for the most part, his eyes contained the deadened look of a man who was told he had a month to live.

Which might as well be true.

"You okay?" she asked, the camera still on.

It was a rhetorical question. Kanda shrugged, unwilling to say anything, and picked up an electric guitar sitting in the corner. She watched as he tuned it with a tortoiseshell pick.

Jazz music suddenly filled the air, and Lenalee fumbled with the camera as she reached for the phone in her pocket. Her face fell at the caller ID, but she held it up to her ear after a moment. Kanda made no indication that anything had disturbed his guitar-tuning, and continued to pluck at the strings almost restlessly.

At last, Lenalee snapped her phone shut.

"Who was it?" Kanda queried, his voice quiet. He put down his guitar pick and looked at Lenalee.

The Chinese girl shook her head. "Lavi."

"Ah," Kanda said, nodding his head. "The idiot."

"Oh, shut up, you bitch," Lenalee said, brightening in spite of herself. Kanda had reverted back to insulting, which was how he always was before. It was a bit like a green light, signaling her that it was okay to relax around the Japanese man and not treat him as if he might break any second.

"So what was he calling you for?" he asked, guitar in lap.

"Well, he and his boyfriend were setting up for this performance," Lenalee said carefully. "You know, the performance Tyki's going to have to protest Earl Noah's plan to fix up this lot where a lot of homeless people live in."

"Earl?" Kanda wrinkled his nose. "That rich bastard who used to room with Lavi and us?"

"Yeah. And according to Tyki, the sound system died on them. So they kind of need some help..."

"Hmm." Kanda's eyes were contemplative. "Tyki's the gold-eyed creep that the idiot left you for, right?"

"No need to remind me," she rolled her eyes. "Komui calls me every other day to 'console' me."

"Guess you should go," Kanda shrugged carelessly.

She nodded and tucked the camera under her arm. "Yeah, I guess..." She glanced at him, and he avoided her gaze. "Kanda..." She bit her lip. "You really should get out a bit more. I mean, you can't stay in your room forever."

Dark bangs shielded Kanda's face. "Bye, Lenalee."

She gave a final sigh and left his apartment.

Picking up the pick, Kanda brought it to his guitar again. And then he lifted his head to look at the ceiling.

"Alma..."

Kanda had always been gay. It never particularly bothered him, especially since he had his long-time boyfriend Alma with him. From when they were children, Alma knew how to cheer Kanda up, how to crack a smile or a laugh out of the sullen boy he had been. Alma was the one who always supported Kanda in becoming a songwriter, and had even helped him with some lyrics on the occasion. Alma had always been the first, and Kanda thought he would be the only one to breech his stoic personality.

Until Alma committed suicide, but not before telling Kanda that he was HIV-positive, and that meant Kanda probably was too.

Gritting his teeth, Kanda shoved the guitar away from him to glare at it. He trusted Alma. Alma had been his best friend and his lover. And Alma just left him without another thought. Didn't bother leaving any words of comfort. Alma apparently didn't think life was worth living if AIDS would continually haunt him every single day, but he didn't think of how Kanda might feel.

He left Kanda all on his own to deal with the repercussions.

Never again would Kanda subject himself to such betrayal. He never wanted someone so close to him to leave such a deep scar on his heart again. He wouldn't have the chance to find a new boyfriend anyway; AIDS was eating at his life and he didn't know when he might be overwhelmed by it.

But while he was alive, Kanda knew he wanted to write one last song to leave his mark on the world. One song to make sure Kanda Yuu wasn't completely forgotten.

And Alma could just—stuff it like the dead, useless person he was.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Kanda lowered the guitar. It couldn't be Lenalee—she had just left, and she had the key to his apartment anyway. He got up to go open the door, and found himself face-to-face with the most exotic-looking person he had ever met in a long time.

Silver eyes blinked bemusedly as Kanda openly gaped. "Um..." the stranger said cautiously. "Hello?"

Kanda cleared his throat, and averted his gaze from snow-white hair, pale skin, and pretty silver eyes. The stranger was slender like a teenager, wearing a wool sweater, leather (leather!) pants, and knee-high boots. His short white hair gleamed in the dim light, and silver eyes matched near-perfectly with a pert nose and full red lips.

"Hello?" the stranger repeated tentatively. Kanda heard the overtones of an European accent, British more likely than not.

_'Oh, god,' _Kanda thought in despair.

"What?" he asked brusquely, trying to hide his attraction to the white-haired guy.

The stranger grinned awkwardly. "Um, well, do you have any matches? There's this power failure down at my apartment, and I have candles and everything, but I realized that I didn't have anything to light the candles, you know?"

"Oh," Kanda said stupidly. "Wait a sec."

He all but lunged back into his apartment and found a stray pack of matches lying on a bookshelf. Snatching it up, he hurried back to the door where the stranger was waiting patiently, hands inside his pants pockets.

"Take as many as you want," Kanda mumbled gruffly.

"Thanks," the stranger said, beaming. As he pocketed the matches, he held out his other hand. "I don't think we've really met before. I'm Allen Walker, from downstairs."

"Kanda," the Japanese responded, taking hold of the other's hand. He shivered at the skin-to-skin contact and tried to pay more attention to what Allen was saying instead of the softness of the skin of his hand, and how smooth and wonderful it felt. Something flickered in Allen's bright eyes, and the Brit seemed to inch closer until they were close enough that Kanda could count every eyelash... Their joined hands tightened together.

This had to be flirting. This just had to be. And while Kanda was enjoying the feel of Allen's skin, he had a feeling that Allen was still saying something.

"Kanda? Did you hear what I just said?"

"What?"

"You can let go of my hand."

The man in question promptly released Allen's hand as if it was on fire.

Allen just smiled as if nothing happened. "Well, it's nice meeting you, Kanda. See you around." He looked at Kanda one last time, and again silver eyes twinkled mischievously.

It was extremely difficult for Kanda to not stare at Allen's rear as he descended down the stairs, so he gave up trying and openly leered for a minute.

Then his head snapped up as he realized what had happened.

He was attracted to Allen.

"Oh, crap."

…

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…

**A/N: **If you know what's going on in RENT, then it should be fairly obvious who's who. If not, you can ask even though I don't think it's necessary. And if you have no idea what RENT is, let me know if there were some confusing parts so I can clear those up.

I had to sneak Alma into this chapter. I just had to. But I'm not badmouthing him or anything... It just fit.

Just to let you guys know, I'm not going to continue this. I wouldn't be able to do RENT justice, and even if I could, I think I would have a lot of trouble fitting the DGM characters in the storyline. But I think this chapter came out fairly well, so please review and let me know if you liked it or not!


	27. Conversation 3

**Title:** Conversation (Part Three)

**Genre:** General/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "I'm not gay. Really."

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, and maybe I'm also Kishimoto in disguise (he's totally raping his series now, it's that bad).

**Notes:** [LONG SILENCE]

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_we love each other_

_through our words alone_

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"...Lenalee?"

"What the fuck."

"You're not Lenalee..."

"No shit. And who are you supposed to be?"

"Oh god, oh god. You're a _guy._ With long hair. This is not happening."

"_Answer me._"

"Okay, okay! Sheesh, don't get all grumpy-testosterone-bully on me. I was supposed to meet Lenalee here today."

"Not. My. Question."

"Stop glaring at me, freak. I'm Allen Walker."

"...Fuck. _You're _Allen Walker?"

"Got a problem with that?"

"Did Lenalee tell you to meet her here because she set up a date for you?"

"Um. No. She said that she would go watch this movie with me. As friends."

"...She took you for a ride."

"I noticed, moron."

"Shut up. What's up with the weird hair anyway?"

"It's just my hair."

"You look like an old man."

"Jackarse. Anyway, how did Lenalee get you to come here? Er, what's your name?"

"Kanda."

"And..."

"..."

"Kanda, did Lenalee promise you a date? And somehow, she also told you my name and—Wait. She tried to set you up with me?"

"Duh."

"You're...gay."

"Took you long enough to notice."

"Why me?"

"Trust me, I didn't ask for an old man. I'm not that kinky."

"Not dyed. I swear. And it's Allen, okay?"

"Lenalee wouldn't set me up with a _straight _man anyway. She knows I'll kill her boyfriend if that happens."

"I think you just implied that I'm bent."

"Tch. What else would I imply? That your hair isn't dyed?"

"I'm not gay. Really."

"Liar. Lenalee has some sort of gay-dar or something. She could tell that her idiot boyfriend was bi."

"Lavi's bisexual?"

"Yeah, his ex was a complete nutcase. Looked Hawaiian, curly hair, and bat-shit crazy."

"I am never going to look at Lavi the same way again. Ever."

"Hn."

"...So."

"So what?"

"I have two prepaid movie tickets. Might as well watch it."

"With a _gay _guy? I thought you were straight, Walker."

"Don't worry, you're not my type."

"I thought you said you weren't gay!"

"Hence my point."

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**A/N: **I'm actually trying to work on multi-chaptered stuff. Really.


	28. Magical

**Title:** Magical

**Genre:** Fantasy/Friendship

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** Allen couldn't help that he was a bored faerie...or that Kanda was an intriguing elf.

**Disclaimer:** Give a couple decades or so, I'll illegally obtain the rights to DGM...

**Notes:** I don't like writing fantasy. But I'm making an exception this time.

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_touch magic_

_and pass it on_

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…

Allen was insanely bored. Faeries were notorious for their short attention spans, but his was especially so. Recently, he had become even more agitated to the point that his wings were unconsciously leaking faerie vibes. Tyki, one of his closer friends, had been one of the unfortunate victims. He had to flee into the elves' territory to lose Tyki.

Although it was difficult to tell with Tyki. He was unusually promiscuous to begin with.

And now he was lost in the land of the elves. He had been excited for about five seconds since he had never once breached their land, but when no elf appeared right away, he lost interest. He had never seen an elf before, and he had hoped today would be the big day when he saw a creature other than a faerie or one of those forest spirits that seemed to like him so much. They said it was something about his eyes, or what not...

Flickering his silver-blue wings irritatedly, Allen spun around mid-air, trying to remember where he had come from.

"Lost, little boy?"

Without turning his head, Allen lashed out, "Shut your trap, Lavi."

The tree spirit looked smug as he perched on the lower branch of a nearby pine. "Now, now. Don't get all faerie on me. And believe me, everyone's been talking about how you just can't sit still anymore." Tossing back his brilliant mahogany hair, Lavi grinned cheekily.

"Unless you actually have something interesting to say," Allen sniffed, "then don't bother."

"Who do you think you are, the Faerie Queen?" Lavi huffed. "And I was going to tell you about this new kid I met."

Allen's curiosity was reluctantly piqued. "Kid?" he queried, trying to look apathetic. "There's a human around?"

"Nah," the tree spirit shook his head. "Not even humans are that stupid. I'm talking about this elf."

"Oh." Allen's silver eyes dulled again. "Then it's not new."

"Is too!" the spirit insisted childishly.

Rolling his eyes, the little faerie flitted through the trees before circling back. "Lavi, you know as well as I do that the elves can have children once every one hundred years. And the last time was only a couple decades ago. There can't be any new elvish children."

"Who said it was a child?" Lavi said.

"You said it was a kid," Allen pointed out.

"Oh. Well, I meant that it was an elf I hadn't met before."

Now Allen's eyes widened. "How can that be? I mean, you're younger than most of the other tree spirits, but I thought that you knew everyone." His wings fluttered with anticipation, leaking vibes again.

Coughing slightly, Lavi grumbled, "Tone down the faerie dust, Allen. You know I'm allergic to it."

"What a moss head," Allen teased. "Who's ever heard of a tree spirit having allergies?"

"Oi! What are you doing on elvish land?"

The faerie and the spirit whipped their heads around to stare at a shimmering figure that scowled at them. It was obviously an elf, the tapered ears out and displayed. Allen took in the long dark hair, the fierce eyes that could send even the most monstrous of magical creatures running for their lives, and the pale skin partially hidden by russet clothing.

Allen's silver eyes sparkled.

"He's the one, huh?" Allen said, keeping his eyes on the elf.

"Yup," Lavi nodded.

"Answer me!" the elf in question snapped.

"You're being touchy today, Yuu," Lavi called from his safe spot on the tree.

Yuu's eyes narrowed and he took a menacing step forward. "You're that tree spirit that wouldn't stop chasing the elvish girls," he snarled out, baring his teeth in a feral manner. "I thought I taught you a pretty damn good lesson last time, you stupid pervert."

Allen promptly forgot his amusement and turned to glare at Lavi. "Oh, really? It wasn't enough that you had to flirt with all of the faerie girls too?"

"Eheh..." Lavi's gaze darted. "You know, I think—I should go!" The tree spirit vanished into the wood.

Yuu looked annoyed at Lavi's disappearance, but his focus shifted to the silver faerie. "You're a faerie."

"Bravo," Allen drolled wryly. "It doesn't take a sage to figure that out, elf."

"It's _Kanda_," the elf hissed.

Blinking, the faerie landed on a flower and folded his silver wings. "I thought your name was Yuu? At least, that's what Lavi called you."

Kanda showed his teeth again, and the faerie backed down. "The Elvish Laws forbid murder, least of all the murder of spirits of nature. If it weren't for that, that tree spirit would have been long dead."

"A bloodthirsty elf," Allen blinked. "I thought that you guys were all about peace and love?"

"Those are faeries," Kanda said flippantly.

"Liar," Allen snorted. That is. "We're not delicate and innocent like those foolish humans think we are. We're perfectly capable of mischief."

"So what makes you think elves are any better?"

The elf and the faerie stared at one another.

"You're a weird faerie," Kanda declared.

"You're a weird elf," Allen shot back.

Lavi watched from a nearby tree and sighed. He could tell that it was the start of a beautiful friendship.

…

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**A/N: **Short, but only because this is a fantasy chapter. I'm not too good with fantasy, but I thought this turned out okay... Except for the end. I couldn't think of a smoother way to end it.

Review?


	29. Attraction

**Title:** Attraction

**Genre:** Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** It had to be Allen's hair; why else would the brat be so popular?

**Disclaimer:** Santa failed me last Christmas, so I've given up all hope.

**Notes:** Hey, I'm actually trying to write something drabble-length. You know, shorter.

* * *

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…

…

…

…

_it's ridiculously easy to see why they like you_

_it's ridiculously hard to hate you_

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…

There is something about Allen that draws people to him. Or maybe it is the people that are drawn to him. Same thing, really. That moron can make friends with almost every single person that crossed his path (with a few exceptions including the oh-so-unlovable and philandering biology teacher with long red hair who always spent the first semester scaring the crap out of his classes and the second teaching a very detailed sex ed lesson).

The point is, Allen attracts people like moths to the light. And unfortunately, he is too fucking _sweet _and _nice _to burn anyone who gets too close for comfort. Damn oblivious brat.

It has to be the hair, Kanda concludes. That goddamn white hair can catch anyone's eye.

"That's just dumb," Lenalee snorts by his side, causing the Japanese to realize he had been thinking aloud.

"What?" he growls.

"Your hair's almost as bad as his," the female student points out.

Kanda frowns. What is bad about his hair? Sure, it is a bit on the long side (after an incident involving his cousin Chaoji and a pair of scissors, Kanda had resolved to never cut his hair again), and it is tied up in a long ponytail ("Like a girl's," Lavi would snicker before getting his face punched in).

"Hn," he grumbles, unable to retaliate. Okay, so his hair is a bit on the feminine side. Whatever.

A freshman girl approaches Allen as he laughs at a joke Lavi tells him. The telltale flush on her face and the pink letter clutched in her trembling hands makes it quite clear what her feelings are. She mouths a few inaudible words as Allen turns towards her, acting bemused but polite. The freshman shoves the letter into Allen's hands before running off, her face redder than ever.

"What a girl magnet," Lenalee says, grinning as Allen blinks obliviously.

Kanda harrumphs.

"Brat still has weird hair."

…

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* * *

**A/N: **Short, and with no concrete Yullen. I've been trying to make some of my chapters actually drabble-length instead of a bunch of mini-stories that I'm teasing the reviewers with.

The next chapter will be Lists 5, and it might be coming up this weekend if I can shake myself out of a lazy spell I'm going through.

Reviews are loved, as always.


	30. Lists 5

**Title:** Lists (Part Five)

**Genre:** Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "I'm sorry. I can't promise that."

**Disclaimer:** Hoshino drives a tough bargain. I had to sign my name in blood on the contract.

**Notes:** Yeah, yeah, just keep on reading.

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_don't look at me with those eyes_

_eyes of pity, regret, but hopeful nonetheless_

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**WHY I'M CURRENTLY HIDING IN THE COURTYARD**

_Bean sprouts._

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…

…

Emigrating to China hadn't been one of the optional choices. It was more of a necessity, considering how the courtyard wasn't the best place to hide in (read: lots of open space where he was like a pigeon open to hunters). In fact, he wasn't really hiding at all, which anyone who happened to be passing by the courtyard could see.

Instead, he was pacing. He always paced whenever he felt agitated, excited, or both. And the courtyard was a good pacing place as opposed to a hiding spot.

Two quick steps.

Kanda fisted his hands which hung uselessly by his sides. Allen knew about his feelings—or at least, knew that Kanda cared about him. Kanda almost wished that he had stuck around long enough to garner more information on Allen's reaction, but Lavi had also been there. The redhead was probably trying to do damage control at the moment, no doubt calming a shocked Moyashi.

Four normal steps.

But Allen was going away to Japan on a suicide mission.

Three aimless circles.

Why?

One long stride.

"As if I could understand how a sprout's mind works," he muttered to himself angrily. He kicked at a rock and watched it bounce off a step and split into two pieces. He sighed and sat down on a step to rest his head in his hands.

What was he going to do?

More importantly, what was Allen going to do?

Kanda tried to imagine the various reactions Allen might have. The best outcome would be Allen returning his feelings—but he would still have to go to Japan. Kanda knew how stubborn the Brit could be. He wouldn't do something so ridiculously suicidal if he could be easily dissuaded. Besides, Exorcists weren't even supposed to love anything. Love wasn't meant to mix with them. Allen knew that as well as anyone, and Central was especially keen to press home that Exorcists were only instruments of war.

There was no way Allen would stay in the Order for him.

Then there was the worse possible outcome; Allen feeling nothing but disgust, Allen wanting nothing to do with him anymore.

The swordsman tugged at his hair in despair as the image of scornful silver eyes flashed through his mind. He didn't want that. It would hurt his heart like a motherfucker and probably scar him for life. Heck, he would probably become one of those toothless old men who sat on the corners of streets, croaking ominous warnings and—

Goddammit, love.

Kanda 0, Love 9783516298479.

He didn't want to know if Allen could love him. But at the same time, he wanted a definite answer. A yes or a no. _Could you love me? Or is it too impossible for even a big-hearted sprout like you?_

It would hurt less to hear about Allen's death if there was no possibility what so ever.

But it would still hurt.

It would hurt even more if Allen really did like him.

Either way—

"You're pulling your hair out."

It took Kanda a second to realize that he was, indeed, starting to rip a few strands of midnight hair out of his bangs. It took him another second to notice Allen lowering himself to sit on the steps right next to him.

Holy shit.

"You didn't need to jump at the sight of me," Allen said, smiling uneasily as Kanda's eyes widened and his mouth fell open to gabble nonsense. His smile fell when Kanda remained tense and wary.

"What do you want?" Kanda mumbled, turning his face away. He felt his cheeks heat up with shame and fear.

"Well, right now, I just want to talk," came the simple reply.

"About what?" the Japanese asked evasively.

A pause. "Lavi tried to give me a summary, but I didn't really get everything. He went on about baths and sparring and glances across the cafeteria, but he never said anything explicit." Allen wavered for a moment, then continued, "He said that you love me."

"I don't."

Even Allen looked startled at the speed of Kanda's counter. Kanda decided then to jump in front of the firing line. Allen knew anyway (most likely), so what was the harm in laying it all in front of him?

"I don't lo—_think _of you that way yet," Kanda was saying quickly, even backpedaling halfway to force "love" back down his throat. "But I—that's—if we weren't Exorcists—I could..."

He stopped, swallowed thickly, and said, "I _could._"

_I could love you. And I'm afraid._

Allen didn't say anything at first. Kanda looked down at his knees before letting his eyes slide to the side, trying to gauge the Brit's reaction. Of course, there was no sign on Allen's face that he felt the same way; no blush, no embarrassed smiles, nothing. But there weren't visible hints of a negative reaction either. Allen just looked—thoughtful.

"Do you know why I agreed to go to Japan?" Allen said abruptly.

"...No."

"Well, I can't say that I know exactly what I'm doing," Allen laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just that... Do you know about the Fourteenth?"

"The Fourteenth?" Kanda felt, and probably looked, thoroughly confused.

"It's kind of complicated," the albino said, his voice trailing off. "But the Fourteenth needs to confront the Earl."

"The Fourteenth is an Exorcist?"

"Like I said," the parasitic Exorcist said, smiling, "it's complicated."

They sat in silence. Kanda wanted to ask who the Fourteenth was. He thought that he had heard the name Fourteenth associated with a rumor or two about a Noah who had opposed the Earl. And he was fairly certain that it was because of the rogue Noah that Allen was under such constant surveillance. Speaking of surveillance, where was Link? And also, how was Allen going to go to Japan without being followed by someone from Central?

So many questions. And yet...

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

...so little time.

"You're coming back alive, right?" Kanda asked, pushing his own feelings aside for the moment. It was Allen's choice to respond or ignore them, after all.

Silver eyes darted. "I don't know."

Scoffing, Kanda tried to project as much anger as possible into his voice to hide the pain that pulsed through his chest. "Idiot. You're supposed to say that you won't go down that easily. Or some optimistic crap like that."

"I'm sorry. I can't promise that."

It was only the pleading tone in Allen's words that stopped Kanda from knocking out the albino and locking him away to keep him _here_, in the Black Order, _safe and sound._

"Hey, Kanda...do you really like me?"

Kanda felt his cheeks heat up slightly, and he nodded, letting his bangs cover his face.

"Good," Allen said, sounding pleased. "I like you too."

A choke was all Allen could hear from the swordsman next to him. "L-l-l-what?" Kanda spluttered.

"I can't say that I _love _you," Allen went on, seemingly oblivious to how Kanda was gaping at him like a dead fish. "But I think I could." He was smiling again, and Kanda couldn't do anything else but stare. "That's okay, right?"

Head nod.

"Alright then." Allen got off the steps, tucking his hands into his pockets. Looking back at Kanda, he called, "I don't know when I'll be back. But wait for me?"

"_I thought you said you couldn't promise that!"_

"Because I'm not promising that," Allen grinned. "I'm definitely coming back alive." He gazed at Kanda a few moments longer, silver eyes lingering on the Japanese's reddened features and the way those dark eyes were unable to hold his gaze.

"Wait for me," Allen repeated softly.

"...Yeah."

…

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…

**WHY I SHOULD WAIT FOR MOYASHI**

_I said I would._

_Really._

_But that doesn't mean I'm going to sit around doing nothing._

_Like hell I'm going to let him become stronger than me._

_I wonder if he's thinking of me right now?_

_No! Moron! Don't think about it! Train!_

_Hey...Moyashi. It's okay if it's like this, right?_

_You better wait for me too._

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**A/N: **The end was rushed. I'm usually better at pacing, but I wanted to get this out in time. I know I said I would post this last week, but I'm no good with deadlines. But there _will _be an epilogue for this. I'm actually thinking of archiving the Lists series and compiling them into a separate story so that readers won't have to slog through Bleached Ink to read them.

Also: Bleached Ink will be taking a mini-hiatus. I will probably be taking all of May off from updating in order to work on a LenaleeLaviTyki oneshot I have. I'm also working on a multi-chaptered Yullen story with roughly seven chapters, and I want to get that up too by summer.

Although, since I'm horrible at keeping promises, I might update in late May. Or something. Bah. Just don't take my words literally.

I also plan on making all future chapters of Bleached Ink shorter and more drabble-like. It's cruel of me to tease reviewers with mini-story beginnings. Lists will probably be the only series that will be so effin' long.

...Review?


	31. Wakeful

**Title:** Wakeful

**Genre:** Romance/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "Why is Kanda on my bed?"

**Disclaimer:** I _don't _own DGM? Uh-oh...

**Notes:** Short, guys. And kind of different from what I usually do. But it's obviously Yullen.

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_i will stay awake all night_

_if it means i can watch you sleep peacefully_

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What's that noise? It's so annoying. Ugh, shut up, shut up.

...It's still not stopping. What is—Oh! It was my alarm clock. Should have known...

I don't really want to turn it off, though. It's really warm on my bed and I just don't want to move. In fact, there's this really warm pillow that I'm snuggled up against, and I'm not entirely sure what it is, although it seems to be moving slightly—

...A person?

Ohbloodyhellit'sKanda.

Why is Kanda on my bed?

…

Oh. Wait. I'm such a prat. Of course he's on my bed, he's my boyfri—erm, no, that doesn't sound right. Ummm. My lov—? L-lover? But that sounds like we're only together for the s-sex...

Ah, hell with it. It's just Kanda.

...He looks really sweet like that, sleeping. His nose is all crinkled. I kind of want to poke it.

Poke.

Poke. Poke. Poke.

Now his nose is twitching, and he's frowning in his sleep like he's about to wake up. It's kind of silly that he frowns in his sleep. Can't he loosen up? Isn't it really unhealthy to be stressed even when you're conked out? Maybe we should stop being so, erm, "busy" at night. He really needs to rest more.

Now he's settling down. Looks like he's not waking up after all. Well, I like him asleep too. Maybe even better than when he's awake since he's completely at my mercy.

…

…I could...

Should I draw on his cheeks? I think there might be a pen lying around somewhere in my—in _our _room. Or maybe I should braid his hair. Kanda's hair is really—well, it just is. I know a lot of girls who would kill for hair like Kanda's. I mean, it's so long and shiny-looking. And, um, it's really—soft.

_Really _soft.

Maybe I'll just settle for playing with his hair. He always gets kind of grouchy when I do it usually, although I know he really doesn't mind. Still...

"Mmph," he says. He's awake. Hello.

"Sorry," I quickly say before untangling my hand from his head. "Just couldn't resist."

"...mmph. Doesn't matter," he mumbles into the pillow. He yawns (I can see his uvula!), before drawing me closer to his chest. It's warm and solid, and I curl up against him, smiling into his body. "You can keep doing that... Feels good."

"You never told me that." I try to sit up and stare at him, but he just growls and tugs me closer. I sigh, then lay back against him, stroking the long dark hair scattered on the bed. For a moment, we are pressed against each other, silent and—

His eyes snap open again."Moyashi." He levels me a glare. "Turn that damn clock off."

I'm suddenly aware that there is a steady beeping noise going on and on in the background. I must have forgotten about the alarm clock while staring at...Kanda...

"...I forgot about that!" I blink, and then flush sheepishly. Hey, it's still early in the morning. Of course my mind's still fuzzy and out of it. I roll out of the covers and get to my feet, but then I realize that I'm n-naked... "Kanda, where did you put my clothes?"

"On the floor where we left them, moron," he grumbles sleepily from the mound of sheets.

"Right," I nod and tug on my pants.

"How can you ignore that noise?" he continues berating, although his voice is drowsy. Then his voice takes on a teasing tone. "What, were you so distracted that you completely forgot about it?"

"Something like that," I say, hiding a smile.

I can imagine him frowning into the pillow. "Whatever. And don't put your clothes back on."

"Why?" I ask bemusedly as I tap the snooze button on the alarm clock.

"Just get back here," Kanda snaps, although a hint of embarrassment colors his words.

"Sleepyhead," I tease, but I ease out of my trousers anyway. (I didn't blush. Really, I didn't. If Kanda wants to sleep in the nude, fine. I can do that too.) Then I clamber back onto bed, and immediately, his arms surround me, tugging me towards him.

Warm.

"Want me to call us in sick later?" I whisper against his throat. He shivers, then shrugs.

"Why not?"

Wrapped in his arms, I feel myself dozing off. Kanda's already gone, his face slackened and his nose all crinkled. I pause for a moment, shake the slumber out of my mind, and then touch his nose gently.

"I felt that."

"Jerk," I say, kissing the spot I touched.

Then we're both gone.

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**A/N: **I'll be honest with you guys. I'm not getting a lot done during my hiatus. The moment I announced my break, a whole crapload of work decided to dump itself on my shoulders, and I've been feeling like Atlas the last few weeks.

Although it's a good thing I don't have the world on my shoulders. I would probably drop it and say, "Screw the humans!"

Just kidding. Kind of.

So my hiatus is officially over (after two weeks; so sad, right?) since I'm really not getting anything done. But the chapters here will be a little bit shorter because of time restraints. Thanks to all my reviewers for being so understanding!


	32. Remnants

**Title:** Remnants

**Genre:** Romance/Hurt/Comfort

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** There is one who is afraid to love. There is another who is afraid of being left behind.

**Disclaimer:** Well, my lawyer says that I'm supposed to claim ownership—wait, sorry, I mean non-ownership. Freudian slip. Really.

**Notes:** I don't think I write enough angst. It's because I can't. Luckily for you reviewers, I prefer happy times for our couple. But not today.

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_nothing was gone except for you_

_everything was left behind except for us_

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Allen couldn't stand the sight of chopsticks anymore. He couldn't eat noodles, he winced at anything remotely related to Japan, and he averted his eyes from any man who had long dark hair. It was a defense mechanism of sorts, and at the same time, it was preventing him from moving on. No matter how many times people told him to _let go, move forward, come on, Allen, he wouldn't want you to wait forever, _he merely retreated further into his shell, flinching now whenever someone mentioned _him._

And when Tiedoll hesitantly called Allen, asking him _Kanda left behind a lot of possessions he said he didn't want anymore, do you want to...?_, the boy in question just hung up. Quietly, and without a word.

"It's Kanda's fault."

"No, really?" Lenalee sounded dry.

"He _knew _that Allen loved—_loves—_him." Lavi sounded frustrated. Anyone would be in his situation. "And then he ups and leaves without one – single – word."

"Didn't he tell you? Aren't you two best friends?"

"Not anymore," the redhead insisted, sticking his nose up as high as it would go. "And he did tell me, along with the tag line, 'I'll tell Moyashi myself.' And look what he does instead."

"As I recall, the only reason why Allen found out was because you called him from the airport, asking him why the hell he wasn't seeing Kanda off," the Chinese girl answered, frowning at the memory as she opened her chemistry textbook.

Lavi groaned and clutched his head in despair. "Why did he do that?"

"Because Kanda is a moron?" his girlfriend suggested.

"This is way beyond being thick-headed or stupid," Lavi sulked. "I sent him a hundred emails, tried to call him at least five times even though it's freaking expensive, I even asked Tiedoll if he could get a message through. Nothing."

Lenalee started to say something, but a loud thumping noise, followed by a crash and a yell, interrupted their conversation. A moment later, they heard the librarian scolding someone who was apologizing weakly. Peering over the edge of her textbook, Lenalee thought she saw a flash of white hair. A quick glance told her that Lavi had come to the same conclusion.

"From what I heard, he passed by a Japanese history textbook, dropped whatever he was carrying, and then walked into a bookshelf," the redhead inferred.

"Bingo."

"Think we should talk to him?"

She paused. "Let him be. It's probably better this way. Whatever issues he has with Kanda doesn't have anything to do with us."

"That's just cold," the redhead mumbled unhappily.

"That's love for you."

…

…

…

Exhaling softly, Allen dropped his backpack on the floor and padded over to his bed, where he fell down on his back and rolled over.

"_Forget about that guy, Allen. He deserves it for not saying anything."_

"_Are you really going to wait for him?"_

"_He hasn't tried to contact you. I think that should be telling you something."_

"_He's not coming back."_

"Shut up," he muttered into his pillow. The voices fell silent in his head.

Passing a hand over his head, Allen stared up at the ceiling as if it might give him answers.

"Why did you go?"

…

…

…

"_Why won't you talk to him?"_

"Because."

"_That's not an answer, you jerk. Why did you just leave like that? Why didn't you tell me that you didn't tell him—"_

"That's none of your business."

"_You _ass. _Why can't you just come out with it? You love him as much as he loves you, but I don't know why you won't realize that already."_

"I _know _that. I don't need you to tell me, idiot."

"_Then why—"_

A slamming noise. Then:

"_Yuu, you bastard. You did not just hang up on me. I am not going to be satisfied talking to your answering machine. Pick up, or I swear, I'll fly to Japan and slap some sense into you."_

…

…

…

The letter was written with shaky hands. Allen looked over his words pensively, chewing on his lower lip. He wasn't sure if he was actually going to mail the letter. Really, who wrote letters anymore? Even if he sent it, there was no guarantee that Kanda would ever see it. Or if he did, he would be the bastard he was and ignore it; maybe even rip it into pieces before dropping it into a recycling bin.

...He didn't even know Kanda's new address.

Allen banged his head on a nearby wall for his forgetfulness. Well, it wasn't as if he was going to send the letter in the first place. So it didn't really matter, honestly. Although it would have been nice to know that he _could _send a letter.

Eyeing the letter and then his unfinished homework, Allen gave up on both and decided to collapse on his bed once more, exhausted in more ways than one.

…

…

…

"Think he'll break down emotionally?"

An exasperated look. "Lavi, he's _already _breaking down."

"Damnit, Kanda, what were you thinking?"

"He wasn't, obviously."

"How can you be so calm about this? We're friends with two idiots who are _in love with each other_, and they're separated by thousands of fucking miles. It's out of one of those weepy chick flicks you used to watch."

"This isn't a movie, Lavi. They're not always going to get together."

"I know, I know. But I can't help but feel like we're missing something, Lenalee."

"Missing what?"

"Kanda had to have been a samurai in a past life. He's never broken a promise before. I guess that's not saying much since he's a jackass in all other aspects, but he said that he was going to tell Allen. And he didn't."

"Wow. That really _isn't _like him."

"We're definitely missing something from the big picture."

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…

_Dear Kanda,_

_It's kind of weird to use "dear". You're supposed to start a letter with "dear", but don't you think it sounds weird when you think about it? Especially when it's put together with your name. Dear Kanda, dear Kanda, DEAR KANDA..._

_Who am I kidding? Why am I talking about something stupid like that? We both know the real reason why I'm writing this._

_I guess a lot of people would say that you ran away. And I guess you did, in a way._

_Were you scared?_

_Ah, sorry, that's kind of direct. Try again._

_Lavi keeps telling me that you love me. But what kind of love? I don't think I understand your kind of love if it made you run all the way to Japan. That's really far away, Kanda. I can't feel any love from that. Even then, Kanda, I can't stop thinking about everything. Does one kiss really change that much?_

_I guess it does._

_Still, is it okay for me to keep on loving you? Just until... Just until... I know what everyone really thinks. They think I'll get over this. And—no, I'm not that stupid—I know I will. Eventually. But not today._

_Is it really love then? I didn't think a love could be traded for another. I didn't think love would hurt like this._

_Maybe it's not, then. Who knows._

_I sound like a girl, right? I should stop writing then._

_It's still okay, right?_

_Right?_

_Love,_

_Allen_

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**A/N: **I wanted to write something sad. But I can't seem to do sad. If you're really confused, here's the bottom line. Kanda loves Allen, but he's scared about it. (It's not mentioned, but he doesn't want Allen to be hurt by homophobic morons.) Then Allen goes and kisses him, and then Kanda is completely at loss as to what to do. Afraid to love, afraid to be loved... So, like the idiot he is, he decides to move back to Japan (since he was a transfer student or something) to keep Allen safe.

Classic, huh?

Again, sorry for the confusion. But honestly, I'm not getting much work done. The oneshot I was working on morphed into a two/three chaptered story. I also came up with a new plot instead of progressing in my other ones. I should just walk around wearing the label: EXTREMELY LAZY WRITER.

You read it, you review it. Please?


	33. Heated

**Title:** Heated

**Genre:** Romance/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "I demand that you buy me a popsicle, at least."

**Disclaimer:** What, you really think I could have gained the rights to DGM in two weeks?

**Notes:** I not like heat, just like Allen.

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_under your gaze_

_heat transfers from you to me_

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Allen flopped under the tree and right onto Kanda's lap, and then promptly flung an arm across his face. Peering over the rim of his glasses and the edge of _Macbeth, _Kanda deadpanned, "What are you doing, Moyashi?"

"It's hot," came the muffled reply.

"I _know._" The Japanese student frowned until his forehead creased. "And you're not helping."

"But Kanda," Allen whined, removing his arm from his face, "this is the only tree for miles around and with shade."

"That doesn't mean you have to throw yourself on me," Allen's lover replied dryly. He then nudged the white-haired freshman with _Macbeth_, hard_. _"Now get off. I need to finish reading this shit by tomorrow, and you're distracting."

Silver eyes blinked blearily before suddenly sharpening in mischief. "Distracting in what way?"

Unable to stop his eyes from rolling, Kanda stood up, ignoring his boyfriend's yelp when his head slid to the ground. The Japanese paused; he hadn't finished Act V yet, and he still needed to translate the whole passage of Act IV. Deciding that he wasn't going to get any work done around Allen, he shut _Macbeth _and poked Allen's stomach, saying, "None of that, moron."

Allen sighed, resigned, and turned over to his side under the shade. "It's still hot."

"What do you want me to do about that?" Kanda muttered acidly, adjusting his glasses. "I don't like the heat anymore than you do. Suck it up."

"You could buy me an ice cream," Allen pointed out.

"Buy your own sugar stick," came the snort. "Why should I do that when it doesn't help me?"

The freshman college student considered for a moment. "Because I'll love you forever if you do?" he suggested cheekily. "And because I'll leave you alone with your silly Shakespeare afterward?"

Kanda narrowed his eyes which, Allen observed, didn't look as threatening behind glasses. "I could just stay in my apartment and lock all the doors and windows," he threatened. "And then excommunicate your ass for the rest of the year."

"But you wouldn't," Allen shrugged, smiling slightly.

"...Che." Kanda refused to back down, and tightened his grip on _Macbeth._

"Okay, okay," the younger male relented, rolling onto his back so he could see the leaves rustling and shifting above him. "I demand that you buy me a popsicle, at least. Not as sugary, much healthier, and cheaper too." He paused, and wiped the sweat off his forehead. The heat only seemed to get worse, bordering on humid.

"No."

_'Adamant bastard,' _Allen thought, groaning as the temperature seemed to press into his skin, making him feel drowsy and uncomfortable. "If not a popsicle, then a kiss?"

Kanda stared at him incredulously. Then: "It's too hot for a kiss."

Adamant _and _evasive. Allen sat up, silver eyes twinkling. "Kanda, no one's going to be outside in this kind of weather. It's okay."

A grumble. "If it'll make you leave me alone." Kanda sounded sour even as he went on his knees and leaned down towards Allen's face. Smirking, Allen met him halfway. If only Kanda were a little more honest with his feelings, then—Ooh. Kanda was in a _biting _mood.

"Someone's eager," Allen murmured against Kanda's lips, licking his own swollen mouth.

"Shut up."

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**A/N: **I couldn't stop imagining Kanda with glasses. By the way, they're both in university in this one. Guess their majors! And haha, I know, Kanda reading Shakespeare? What has the world come to? And seriously, I wasn't expecting them to kiss at the end, but then Allen had to go and demand a make-out session. Yeesh.

I am working on the final part for Lists. I'm a bit stuck on it, but it should be the next chapter out. But if it isn't, don't flame me. (cowers) I work on an unstable schedule.

Reviews are loved, always.


	34. Lists Fin

**Title:** Lists (Final Part)

**Genre:** Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "You came back." "What, you honestly thought I wouldn't?"

**Disclaimer:** I managed to brainwash my baby cousin into believing I'm Hoshino. You guys are next.

**Notes:** I'm doing my happy dance because this is the final part!

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_i never said that i would wait for you_

_but you never said that you would come back_

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**TODAY'S SCHEDULE**

1. Get up and train at 6AM.

_Moyashi told me that five was way too early for anyone to be up, so it's six now._

2. Eat soba.

_That brat liked stealing my food._

3. Train more.

_Whenever I beat up the Finders too much, Moyashi would make me spar him._

4. See if Komui has any more missions available.

_He paired me up with Allen half the time._

5. Ask (and be subtle) if there's any news of sprouts.

_Yeah right. Like the last 328 times._

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Waking up became a little harder each morning. He woke up alone, trained alone, ate alone, and went on missions alone (most of the time). Kanda wasn't a particularly self-sacrificing person, but he thought he was giving up a damn lot for Allen.

...Not that Allen asked him to give up anything. But it didn't feel right being around other people while Allen was gone. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder," Lavi had playfully teased. And—goddamnitall—he hated it when Lavi was right even as he found his heart growing much, much fonder.

He had developed a habit of scanning crowds for a shock of white hair whenever he found himself in town. He had stopped sparring with others because he was instantly reminded of sweat-slicked skin, pale strands flying around a flushed face, and battle-heightened silver eyes. And whenever he reported back to Komui after missions, he would wait a few extra seconds both before and after his summary in hopes that the Supervisor would mention something, anything, about Allen.

Then again, Komui didn't know that he and Allen were—

How much longer was the stupid idiot going to keep him waiting?

It had been about eleven months since Allen left him, his not-love mutual and confirmed. But what was the point of having his feelings returned, Kanda grumbled, if said object of interest wasn't present?

Kanda was fully aware that he was sulking, but moodiness had a tendency to override common sense.

The first month had been the easiest, the swordsman figured. Allen sometimes left for missions for that long, and it was easy to delude his Moyashi-stricken mind to focus on other activities for several weeks, even longer since he spent quite a few days trying to get used to the fact that _Allen liked him. _It almost made him forget about what else Allen had told him.

Then he started seeing Lavi a lot more often than he cared for as he delved into the library shelves, searching the thick texts for a mention of any "Fourteenth".

Nothing. Not even one single fucking sentence about another Noah.

He got more restless through the second month. During the third month, according to Lavi, he started lashing out at anyone who tried to approach him, growing more and more irritable as the days went on. The fourth and fifth months were the strangest as he became quiet and withdrawn, not even protesting when Lavi called out worriedly, "Yuu?" If he thought back a little harder, he would distinctly remember several people going up to him once in a while to poke him tentatively, as if he were a dead animal.

The sixth, seventh, and eighth went back, and he eventually reverted back to his default callousness. Even so, he couldn't stop himself from occasionally falling into a melancholy state, trying to remember the shine of silver eyes.

"You miss him a lot, huh?" Lenalee had commented offhandedly.

More than anyone would ever know.

It was during the ninth month that he finally learned something about the Fourteenth.

He had been hounding Komui, albeit tactfully, for anything about Allen, and then the Fourteenth. Komui had, at first, clammed up and refused to say anything. But slowly but surely, Komui would occasionally offer up a tidbit to him, saying, "Allen says that he's doing well," or the like. And then, one day, when Kanda had been waiting for a whole minute after giving his report, Komui called out as he started to walk away, "The Fourteenth made a deal with Allen."

Immediately, Kanda was back in front of Komui's desk, scowling down at the Supervisor who calmly sipped his coffee. "What deal?"

"Ah, ah, ah," the sister-complex had answered playfully. "I can't tell you more than that~"

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because Allen didn't tell me."

"...Huh?"

A deal? A deal of what sort?

The tenth month was spent musing over this "deal" of sorts. Kanda hoped that Allen hadn't promised anything stupid to the Fourteenth, whoever that bastard was. From what he could tell from Komui's vague words, Allen hadn't come anywhere near close to destroying the Earl. Maybe—just possibly—Allen had promised his life—

But he never followed that trail of thought. Allen had promised _him _that he would come back.

He had to come back.

And now, it would only be a few more weeks before Allen would have been gone for a whole year. Kanda sat outside near the edge of the forest. He had, at first, started for the small clearing where he usually trained, but today, he felt like meditating first.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"_You may be a complete bastard, but you're not so bad sometimes. I owe you that much."_

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"_Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I wasn't..."_

Breathe in.

"_...Does this mean we're friends?"_

Breathe out.

"_Wait for me."_

Dark eyes snapped open. Kanda didn't realize that his breathing had quickened until he heard his own rasping voice, all but panting. Forcing his hands to unclench from the fists they had become, he slumped against a tree, weary and so, so lonely.

"Moron," he muttered. "Idiot. Jackass. Moyashi."

"It's _Allen._"

Kanda froze. That voice. That goddamn voice. Deeper, maybe, and more mature. But...

"You've gotten better," he managed to say, trying to calm his racing heart. "I didn't even hear you."

"What, you honestly thought I wouldn't?" The voice sounded only a little annoyed; a teasing playfulness was dominant even to Kanda. Then the voice softened slightly and said, "You actually waited."

"What, you honestly thought I wouldn't?" Kanda threw back into Allen's face.

Sitting with his back to the opposite side of the tree Kanda was leaning against, Allen replied amusedly, "You've never been a patient person."

"Che. I keep my promises."

"You know, you never actually promised me that—"

"You bastard," Kanda murmured. He turned his head to catch a glimpse of white, glimmering even under the shade. He felt like he could never see enough of Allen, and scooted a bit closer. Silver eyes, a bit sharper and darker than he remembered, look up at him.

"Kanda," Allen said, sounding a bit breathless.

"You came back," was all Kanda said before quickly turning his face away, hiding the flush darkening his cheeks. Somewhere, Kanda knew that their reunion would be considered anticlimatic, but...

But Allen was _back, _and he was still the same, and he had changed even though he hadn't really, and from the look in his eyes, he still _felt _something for Kanda, and while eleven months had been enough for Kanda to come to a conclusion, was it enough for Allen?

"You came back," Kanda repeated, as if to make sure Allen was really staying.

"Yeah." Allen grinned. "I'm back."

Then the Moyashi was leaning in, and—

Well. Clearly eleven months had been enough for Allen too.

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Lenalee ran towards the forest where she knew Kanda had to be training. "Kanda!" she yelled as soon as she was within sight. "Kanda, I heard from my brother that Allen's back! Kanda!" She expected the swordsman to come hurling from the woods any second, but when nothing happened, she continued to approach the forest, slightly puzzled.

"Kanda!" she called again. "Where are you—" Then she stopped dead.

Allen gently pushed Kanda's lips away from his mouth, and then turned toward Lenalee. "Hey," he said simply, grinning like a fool. "Long time no see, Lenalee."

Lenalee blinked. "Ah. Hi."

She noticed Kanda was glaring at her. Well, she guessed that she would do the same if she was interrupted in the middle of a—session of sorts. Although... She eyed Kanda thoroughly, and then Allen, not failing to notice a suspicious mark on the Brit's collarbone.

"Well, this is awkward," Allen pronounced cheerfully. "How about we all go in? I haven't had real food in ages."

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**THINGS I WILL NEVER DO**

by _Kanda_

(OR BAKANDA AS KNOWN BY MOYASHI)

1. Die.

_Moyashi swears that if I die, he'll find a way to bring me back just to kill me himself. Lavi claims it's a sign of our love. I think they're both crazy._

2. Lose to Moyashi.

_I'm at 6 wins, 2 losses. Tch. He caught me off guard those times._

3. Get involved with this thing called Love...again.

_Since it'll technically be cheating on Moyashi._

(The below point was added by Allen the Awesome Walker)

4. Leave Allen for someone else.

_Moyashi, that's the same thing as 3._

Is not.

_Just shut up, you brat._

Say that you love me first.

_No._

You don't love me anymore?

_That's not..._

Say it.

_...Fine. I love you, Allen._

Good. Because I love you too.

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**A/N: **Uh. I felt like the ending wasn't really good since I _suck _at romantic scenes and the whole "I miss you so much" kind of feelings. Clearly, you have to experience these situations first before attempting to write them. Well, good enough.

AND IT'S OVER! Wow... I didn't expect for Lists to continue on for so long. It's all thanks to you guys for loving it so much. Lists will be archived in the next few days, depending on when I have time. There probably won't be a series as long and massive as Lists, though. But wow. It's over.

...Review?


	35. Observe 1

**Title:** Observe (Part One)

**Genre:** Romance/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary: **Every day after school, Allen would wait for a glimpse of a most fascinating senior.

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing Allen and Kanda. Really. Don't turn me in to the authorities.

**Notes:** Heehee. Hee. Well, what are you waiting for? Go on, read.

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_i'll do anything to keep on watching you_

_even if you won't watch me back_

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Every day after school, Allen sat in the back of the library. He wasn't exactly hidden, but people had a tendency to overlook the particular seat he took, which was why he chose that seat in the first place. It was easy to pretend to be focused on the book lying open in front of him when in truth, his eyes were searching for something.

For some_one, _to be more specific.

"So who is this guy you've been waiting for?" Lenalee had asked him once, plopping down next to him in the library. By that time, Allen had been watching that person for a week.

"He's coming," was the only answer he bothered to give her.

"You don't know his name?"

"No. But I'm pretty sure he's a senior."

"What kind of stalker _are _you? I thought you would have found out ages ago."

"I kind of like the mystery."

Lenalee hadn't quite understood why he was happy with just watching the unknown senior without attempting to learn more. ("If you like the guy, you should do something about it. Get to know him more.") But at least she had sense enough to leave him alone in his "stalking" of sorts, even though she still held the belief he should eventually introduce himself to the older male.

The senior came around twenty minutes after the bell rang, signifying the end of the school day. His hair, dark and long, was tied in a low ponytail that slipped around his shoulder when he bent to sit down.

Allen watched, transfixed.

The older student appeared immersed in his notebook, which he had taken out moments after sitting down. He frowned as he idly turned the pages, occasionally scribbling down something with a pencil. He never did anything that was unusual enough to catch the eye of ordinary students, but Allen didn't consider himself ordinary in the aspect of—well, of liking the senior. Then again, Allen didn't really think it was a strong enough feeling for it to be considered "liking" someone.

He mulled over it for a while before finally settling on "admiration". He certainly admired the senior's intense eyes that were as dark as his hair, the way his mouth pulled when he was irked, the elegance his every movement held.

It wasn't "liking" someone. Maybe if he knew more about the long-haired senior...

It was a little over a month before he finally discovered the senior's name, although it was by accident.

An enthusiastic redhead named Lavi (he was the object of Lenalee's not-so-subtle affections) had slapped the senior on the back and called out, rather cheerfully, "Oi, Yuu, so this is where you've been going after school."

"_Don't _call me that," Yuu suddenly hissed, slamming an elbow into Lavi's gut.

Lavi choked. Yuu just looked murderous.

For the first time, Allen saw "Yuu" react with an emotion other than the cool indifference he normally showed. He silently took in the way Yuu's eyes flashed, and how his face contorted beautifully with anger.

"Geez, violent as ever, Kanda," Lavi coughed into his fist, gingerly holding his stomach.

Kanda Yuu, then. His name was Kanda Yuu.

"Kanda?" Lenalee mused the next day during class. "Oh, that guy. Yeah, Lavi's mentioned him once or twice to me. Bit of a jerk, but Lavi says he's not that bad on the inside. I wouldn't know, really. Way to pick your crushes, Allen."

"I don't like him," Allen muttered more to himself than to Lenalee. "I just thought you'd stop bugging me if you found out I know his name."

"As if. You haven't even talked to him."

"It's not like he'll want to talk to _me,_" the Brit persisted.

A thoughtful look crossed Lenalee's face, but it was gone before her friend could notice. Later, Allen noticed Lenalee speaking in low tones to Lavi in the hallway, but he brushed it off as one of Lenalee's attempts to get the redhead to notice her, which have been working.

That day, Allen sat in the library as usual. For once, he had found a book that was slightly interesting, and spent some time reading it instead of constantly watching Kanda. If he had lifted his head in the right moment, he would have seen dark eyes staring at him intently. But as it was, he all but forgot about the senior sitting on the other side of the room.

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**A/N: **This will have one more part to it, with Kanda's point of view. I just can't seem to stop making series, even if they're short like this one. Also, on a side note, the Lists series have been archived. Just saying.

I really appreciate all of your reviews, even if they only have two words or smiley faces.


	36. Parents

**Title:** Parents

**Genre:** Family/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Meeting the parents has never been this strenuous.

**Disclaimer:** This is really getting boring. I. DON'T. OWN. DGM.

**Notes:** Cross is my secret love. Shhh, don't tell anyone.

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_daddy, this is my boyfriend_

_you are also not allowed to scare him away like the last twenty_

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Froi Tiedoll was positively ecstatic when his cold, distant, and rough adoptive son brought over his boyfriend (although Kanda hadn't said so, but Tiedoll had his ways) and said, rather awkwardly as if he wasn't sure what to expect afterward, "This is Moyashi." A brief introduction, but it would be unrealistic to expect anything else of Kanda.

Moyashi's eyebrow twitched as if he was refraining from making an obscene facial expression. "My real name is Allen Walker," he informed the still-elated Tiedoll. "Pleased to meet you."

"What nice manners," Tiedoll twinkled.

Kanda looked appalled.

Later, as they seated themselves in the living room, Tiedoll started examining Kanda's significant other. Allen Walker was a rather exotic creature, with snowy white hair and gleaming silver eyes. And most of all, the way he and Kanda subconsciously shifted closer to each other on the couch...

Tiedoll resisted fawning over them. No doubt it would make Kanda angry.

"So, Mister...?" Allen began tentatively.

"Oh, please, call me Tiedoll," the old man chuckled. "After all, if you're going out with Yuu here—"

A splutter, and Kanda was yelping indignantly, "Who said we were going out?"

"Who said we _weren't_?" Allen was hissing back, sounding both hurt and offended. "Did you bring me here just to say that we're not in a relationship, and in front of your _father_?"

"We don't need to tell that old man anything about us!"

"So what, we're going to go out in secret now? _Are you ashamed of me?_"

"My, my, you two are certainly a lively couple," Tiedoll said, smiling. It was no wonder Kanda fell for Allen Walker. Their arguments bordered more on affectionate than actually insulting. And at least they were communicating—of sorts. It wouldn't be like his son to be agreeable, even with his boyfriend. "Young love; so passionate, so vigorous," Tiedoll murmured.

"This is passionate?" Marie (Tiedoll's other adoptive son) murmured from inside his room.

Daisya (yet another adoptive son) frowned at him. "You can hear them from the living room?"

"They're not exactly trying to be quiet."

Needless to say, Tiedoll welcomed Allen and Kanda's relationship with open arms, lots of pictures (taken of the two lovebirds in opportune moments, Tiedoll chuckled), and homemade cookies.

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Cross Marian was positively unimpressed when his idiotic nephew brought over his boyfriend (although that damn brat hadn't said so, but Cross could smell a relationship a mile away) and said, rather stiffly as if he feared Cross would do something drastic to scare his boy toy away, "This is Kanda." He waited with bated breath, having thrown out the first line and was trying to see how Cross would react.

Shifting from the couch, Cross removed the cigarette from his lips and promptly let a cloud of smoke breeze past his lips. "You called me home for _this?_"

There was an unspoken, "I was in the middle of seducing another woman at a bar, you cheeky rascal."

Silver eyes narrowed and Allen replied icily, "_Yes._"

The brat was getting bold. Cross made a note of that and decided to teach his _beloved nephew _a lesson later on. Maybe he'll drag him to another casino; that tended to grate on Allen's nerves since he was the one forced to pick up the slack.

Kanda, for his part, looked like a girl. An irritated, bad-tempered girl, with long hair, flashing dark eyes, and pale skin. Cross grudgingly approved of Allen's choice, looks-wise at least. But how far would this he-she go...?

Immediately shoving his nephew out of existence, Cross leaned forward and smirked. "Kanda, is it?"

A tic formed on Kanda's forehead. "Che."

Difficult, difficult. Cross couldn't prevent a leer from forming on his face. "Tiedoll's your old man, huh? He and I go way back. _Way _back." There was no visible sign of distress on Kanda's face besides bemusement, so the redhead continued. "He used to go on and on about this _cute little daughter _he had initially adopted, only to find out months later, after buying her a dress, that she was a _dick. Literally._"

If Allen looked angry, then Kanda was completely incensed. The Japanese was clearly trying to reign in the desire to rip Cross into millions of little pieces since he _was _seeking the redhead's approval to date his nephew, although it wasn't like he hadn't done so already.

Heh. Nothing like parental benefits. But Cross wasn't done yet.

"You know, I think he even showed me a picture once," he went on casually, grinning madly at the way Kanda clenched his hands into fists and shook from rage. "She was a real cutie, all big-eyed and pretty in that pink dress of hers—"

_Bam._

The stupid he-she turned over the table and now towered over him, his "big eyes" glowering. "Give me a good reason _not _to kill him, Moyashi," he hissed, fingers bent in a claw-like position.

"Kanda, as much as I want to knock him dead, he's still my guardian and I'm not legal yet," Allen said primly, although he looked disappointed at his own words. "If not, I would have considered murdering him in his sleep a long time ago."

Now the brat was just asking for it. Screw it, the brat was going back to India with him.

"Your boyfriend has no self-control," Cross sighed, putting the cigarette back between his lips.

"_What did you say, you bastard?_"

"I forbid you to continue fucking him."

"_Make me, stupid uncle!_"

Needless to say, Allen spent the weekend over at Kanda's place to prevent his _dear uncle _from dragging him to a foreign country.

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**A/N: **Mwahaha. Ha. This was fun to write.

I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Again, it doesn't matter if it's only two words or even a smiley face. It's always nice to hear from you guys.

And, err... Observe 2 will be up next. Maybe. I dunno.

I'd also like to ask your opinions on beta-readers. Do they really help that much in stories? And what kind of beta-reader is the most helpful? Just drop a line or PM. It doesn't mean I'll get a beta-reader, but I'm just curious.

Thanks for reading!


	37. Observe 2

**Title:** Observe (Part Two)

**Genre:** Romance/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary: **The white-haired freshman that caught Kanda's eye was nothing short of bean sprout-ish.

**Disclaimer:** I wonder if anyone actually reads the disclaimers. Oh well, I don't own either way.

**Notes:** Second part of Observe. And I lied. There will be a third and final part. And it will be final. The last part. And no more. Did I say it was final? Because it is.

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_my gaze pierces your back_

_waiting for you to turn and see me_

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"Argh!"

Kanda blinked, having been shaken out of his deep immersion in the philosophical musings of Edgar Allan Poe; more specifically, his poems. The yell that had interrupted his study came from another student across the library who, apparently, had tripped and fallen from the hefty stack of books in his arms. Several thoughts flitted through Kanda's head, such as how it was ridiculous that anyone would walk around with that many books at hand and how _he, _of course, would never trip, but one was predominant above all others.

_'White hair.' _How very unusual. Dyed, no doubt, as he regarded the fallen student's shock of snow-white hair somewhat distastefully. What an eye-catching color.

Lowering his eyes once more, Kanda decided to move on from Poe's nightmarish imagery and research Japanese swords. Lavi, a redhead senior who shared many of his classes and was also his (grudgingly admitted) best friend, swore that he was obsessed with his culture.

"Yo, Kanda."

Speak of the moron. Kanda chose instead to ignore the aforementioned redhead, which did nothing to deter Lavi from continuing to talk.

"You know, Yuu—" A dark glare from the Japanese made Lavi give pause, but he continued brightly, his green eye flicking pointedly at the book of Japanese weapons Kanda was currently reading, "You know, it's like some sort of weird Japanese thing to be nationalistic. I mean, back in World War II—"

"I know what happened in World War II, stupid."

"Sorry, sorry. Just got carried away and all, with history."

"Hn," Kanda said, already distracted by a vivid illustration of a pair of _sai. _Kind of small for his preference, and not exactly swords, but not a bad work of craftsmanship. And there were two of them, almost as if the creator of _sai _doubled them to make up for the smallness of it.

"So."

Groaning inwardly, Kanda growled under his breath, "Let me read in peace."

As if he hadn't heard his best friend, Lavi whispered, "You know that freshman? The one with the white hair who just tripped?"

As if Kanda was able to _not _notice someone with that hair. "What about him?"

"What would you do if I said he has a little thing for you?"

The Japanese senior froze for a second, and then scowled angrily. "That's a stupid joke, even for you."

"You didn't answer my question."

"What's the point? It's not like he likes me or anything."

"And if he did?"

Now Kanda stopped and considered the idea. A white-haired freshman with a crush on him? Glancing up, he easily located the freshman sitting all the way across the room. The freshman seemed deeply absorbed in a book and didn't look up once even when Kanda stared at him outright for at least a minute.

Tearing his eyes again, Kanda countered, "Didn't look at me."

"And what of it?" Lavi inspected his nails, looking bored. "He's busy reading right now, of course."

"I still think you're lying."

"Think whatever you want," came the lazy reply. "But trust me, I have reliable sources. You know Lenalee Lee?"

"How could I not? You talk about her every day." Sarcastic.

"Well, it so happens that she is the best friend of that little freshman, so she would know. But it's not like you care, so I'll be going now..."

"Whatever," Kanda huffed, and returned to his text. However, even when Lavi's footsteps died away and he turned to a page with wonderful descriptions of the process of _seppuku _and how one would cut their guts out, he couldn't help but occasionally peek at the freshman who sat by himself, almost invisible.

It was a few days later that curiosity finally killed the cat, and Kanda cornered Lenalee Lee after school, right before he headed to the library like he always did. "You," he began rudely.

An arched eyebrow. "Kanda. Lavi's told me about you."

Great. That meant Lavi probably planned all of this. Nevertheless, Kanda went to the library ten minutes later, and this time, he knew that the freshman was named Allen Walker, came from British origins, had a pet cat he called Timcanpy, and his hair was naturally pale. As he sat down at his usual spot, he pulled out a notebook and began to doodle as he kept a sharp eye out for a hint of white.

Another ten minutes later, and Allen Walker passed the doors. And if Kanda hadn't been watching him intently, he would have missed the way Walker's eyes darted at him briefly before shifting away.

Crossing the room, Allen Walker once again situated himself in the back of the library. He wasn't really tall, Kanda decided; almost bean sprout-ish in height, and probably just as edible. And if he had planned on making science his major, he might have likened Walker's eyes to melted mercury.

...Edible? Melted mercury? Did he seriously just think that?

Immediately, Kanda forced himself to look away from Allen Walker. But throughout his stay at the library that day and all days after, he would find himself watching him. He watched the way Walker turned the pages of books, as if they were delicate butterfly wings. He watched the way Walker tapped his fingers on the table, as if he was playing the piano. He watched the way Walker talk quietly to Lenalee, who never failed to wink at him whenever Walker wasn't paying attention.

And most of all, he watched the way Walker watched him. And no matter how careful Kanda was, Walker began to notice.

"Smoldering gazes across a room, it's a mystery why you two haven't talked yet," Lavi mentioned wickedly.

Therefore, it was only inevitable that one of them would snap.

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**A/N: **I know I said this would be the second and final part, but a third part came to mind. I promise that the third part will definitely be the final part!

Thank you to everyone who is enjoying Observe! Thanks to my reviewers; I always appreciate hearing from you guys. As always, even one-word reviews are enough to make this writer happy.

Oh, and, uh, because I don't mind shameless advertising, I've put up a TykiLavi/LaviLenalee story. It's set in the same universe as my two DGM oneshots, but it could be read alone...I think. So if you like Lucky, check it out! There will be side Yullen, but of course, it won't be the focus.


	38. Jabberwocky

**Title:** Jabberwocky

**Genre:** Parody/Fantasy

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Alice in Wonderland, except not.

**Disclaimer:** I owneth neither DGM nor Alice's Adventure's in Wonderland. Pity.

**Notes:** This was inevitable. Which fandom hasn't had an Alice's Adventures in Wonderland parody? Yeah? I thought so.

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_jump through the looking glass_

_follow the white rabbit_

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They called him Alice.

He called them jackasses, and then demanded to know the way to the nearest immediate exist.

"But Alice—" cried the white rabbit, who wasn't really a rabbit but more of a rather strange-looking human with the fluffy rabbit ears and tail. And the white rabbit wasn't really white, since he was actually a redhead with a black eye patch. "You have to slay the Jabberwocky! You have to! Frabjous Day is coming!"

"I'm not your Alice!" Kanda hissed, stalking through a forest that was a lot bigger than the average forest.

"Ah, I'm sorry," the human-rabbit said, covering his mouth apologetically. "It's just that the first person who came here was a girl named Alice. And, well, we call everyone who has come here afterward Alice. Last time, there was another little girl called Lenalee; really pretty with long dark hair like yours and big black eyes. She didn't think I looked much like a rabbit, so she called me Lavi."

Massaging his head as the red rabbit got chattier and chattier, Kanda glared around. Mushrooms and tree trunks as far as the eye could see. "If you can't tell me how to get out of here, I will roast you and eat you like the damn rabbit you are."

Lavi opened his mouth, and then shut it just as quickly.

"My, my, having a bit of difficulty with Alice?"

A very fat and very vividly striped cat was fucking _floating _in the air, a crescent moon smile stretching its face. Its eyes were a mischievous gold, and it flicked its huge tail back and forth with the lazy air all cats seemed to possess. It watched them with an amused air while floating above a tree branch, blatantly ignoring the laws of gravity.

"Fourteenth Cat!" Lavi wailed, pulling at his ears in a distressed manner. "Alice says that he wants to get out of here!"

"I told you, my name's _Kanda_!"

"Oh dear," the Fourteenth Cat said without a hint of panic. "Whatever shall we do?"

"Hey, wait a minute," Lavi suddenly said, fiddling with a pocket watch he had with him. "What if—what if we got the wrong Alice?"

"_Kanda_!"

"Does it matter if she's the right Alice or not?" the floating cat commented, looking annoyed despite smiling at the same time. "As long as someone gets that Red Earl off of his high horse, this fake Alice could do."

"Yes, but the Earl has the Jabberwocky!" Lavi suddenly stopped. "Oh dear, I didn't even notice we've wandered here."

Kanda stared at the extremely long table covered by a checkered tablecloth. The setting was for a tea party, complete with little cakes and crumpets and teacups everywhere. At the end of one table sat a young man who could have been mistaken for a young boy, wearing Victorian clothing and a rather extravagant top hat. "Why, Lavi," the boy called. "If you've started to lose your direction, then you must be going mad." He laughed as if he had said an extremely funny joke before snapping his fingers. "Now, come on, Miranda Hare, we mustn't sit still for our guests."

A timid-looking woman who had ears like Lavi's, except in gray, nodded frantically before showing a fidgeting Lavi and a deadpan Kanda to the empty seats along the table. The Fourteenth Cat drifted along until it was face-to-face with the boy. "You're looking mad as always, Hatter," the cat said, golden eyes staring straight at the boy's hat.

"The Hatter's mad," Lavi whispered into Kanda's ear. Kanda was glaring at nothing in particular. "But he's not a bad sort, if you know what I mean."

"Is it that hard to find an exit here?" Kanda muttered.

"Enough of your delusions, Fourteenth," the Hatter waved the cat aside. His silver eyes instead alighted on Kanda. "So I suppose this is Alice? Good timing, too. Frabjous Day is almost upon us all. No time to lose, Jabberwocky to slay." He leaned closer and somehow Kanda felt as if the Hatter was right beside him instead of at the end of the table. "They call me Hatter, but you may call me Allen. Answer me this: Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

Kanda snorted. "I don't know. So, _Allen, _tell me how to get the fuck out of here."

"Ah," and Allen's features twisted in sadness. "Of course, all Alices leave in the end." He whispered the last part to himself, "And I, as always, fall for those who always leave."

"Call me Alice one more time and die."

"Then whatever shall we call you?" Allen asked, amused as he sipped tea.

Exasperatedly, "It's Kanda."

"I do like your hat," the Fourteenth Cat was saying, still gazing at Allen with great intensity in those huge yellow eyes.

"Well, then we must not delay!" The Hatter stood up, still holding his teacup. "Miranda! We must get our guests to our Queen!" As he walked swiftly past a somewhat contrite Lavi ("I'm pretty sure he's the fake Alice, but then again, I'm not so sure, and he must have fallen down the hole for a reason, right? Right?), he paused and bent down to Kanda's fuming face. "You know, the other Alices weren't quite so difficult."

"Go to hell," was all Kanda could say, but he got up and followed the Hatter anyway. "Maybe your damn Queen can tell me how to get out of this fucking screwed up world of yours, and then I can finally go home."

"Well, now, we can't have that, can we?" the Hatter chuckled, his eyes shadowed. But he showed nothing of his dark intentions as he led the way to the castle.

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**A/N: **I don't really like this, not because I think it's bad, but because I'm really not one for writing parodies. And there's no real Yullen in this either.

Well, this is based off of the movie, obviously, which reeked of Hatter/Alice for some reason. Am I the only one? So it made perfect grounds for Yullen, which was scarce and a bit darker than I originally intended. But I decided, why the heck not?

As always, I really appreciate your reviews and I'd like to hear what you guys have to say about this story.


	39. Stargazing

**Title:** Stargazing

**Genre:** Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Stars were constant; relationships were not.

**Disclaimer:** Own, I do not.

**Notes:** I think 'tis cliché. But—but it's also so fluffy and it tempts me...

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_there's something so calming about stars_

_how they never change_

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"I'm afraid of a lot of things, Kanda," Allen was saying. He shifted on the grass, almost rolling away from Kanda's arm around him. His voice was deceivingly casual, but Kanda saw through it instantly. His next words came out more hesitantly. "You know what people say; that long-distance relationships never work out. Sometimes I think maybe it would be better if—well, if we just ended it here instead of later when it's going to hurt more." He paused significantly, waiting for his boyfriend to respond to the not-quite-a-breakup.

Kanda, to his credit, didn't panic like many males before him had in this situation. Instead, without moving his gaze away from the stars, he said, "Idiot." _I told you before that I'm not giving up without a fight._

"I know, I know. We don't know if we try, right?"

"Che. You think too much. And you've never let what other people thought bother you before." Dark eyes stared pointedly at Allen's left arm, hidden by his long-sleeved shirt. "What do they know?" he spat out the words scornfully. _You really believe them before me?_

Allen let out an exasperatedly fond sigh. "You're a strong person, Kanda." More softly, "A better person, too."

"Obviously," Kanda huffed. "So I can get rid of any stupid ideas you have." _So stop it already._

"Except it's not a stupid idea," the younger boy reminded gently. "You're going to _college_, Kanda. And I'll be sticking around for a couple more years before going off to who knows where, just like you. I can't help but worry a bit about the future." He pressed more fully into Kanda's still form. His silver eyes reflected the night and all the constellations that came with it, and a star winked at him before— "Hey, shooting star."

The Japanese grunted. _What wish did you make?_

"I wished..." Then Allen cut himself off. "I'm sorry," he began. "I guess I'm being pessimistic, but I really don't want to lose you." A long shudder. "I'm sorry for saying those things, but I have to know, Kanda. Are we actually going to make this work somehow?"

"It will work," Kanda answered unflinchingly. _Like hell I won't make it work._

"Should I take that as a promise, then?" Allen teased, sounding more lighthearted. "No running off with other guys while I'm here, right?"

"Whatever." _Duh._

Allen stretched himself on the grass, feeling his thoughts calm down despite himself. The air felt cool on his skin, and the stars were bright against the darkened sky. He loved this field that they came to almost every night. There was just something about watching the stars that made you talk about what you couldn't say before in bright daylight. It was something that had never changed, even when he and Kanda had been little.

And now Kanda was going away.

He could feel the warm weight of Kanda's arm cradling his neck. He reached up and held his boyfriend's hand with his own. Kanda's skin felt hot against his own chilled fingers. He tried to look at Kanda's face, but it was too dark for him to clearly see his facial expression.

"I wonder what will happen to us," he whispered finally.

He could feel Kanda's eyes move from the stars to him. "What are you talking about?" Kanda snorted. "Nothing will change, you stupid sprout." _No matter how far away I am, that won't change our feelings._

"Is it wrong to doubt?" Allen wondered aloud. He felt as if he should be disappointed about his lack of trust in their relationship which was as solid as any relationship could be. But he couldn't stop that trail of doubt lurking in the back of his mind, telling him _maybe _and _what if_...

And then Kanda said, more quietly than ever, "As long as you love me..." _And I love you._

And suddenly, it didn't matter anymore. Allen knew that he was smiling in the dark as he buried his face into Kanda's side for a moment, trying to mask the wave of emotion that had overcome him at Kanda's reassurance. Kanda was right; it was stupid of him to worry like this. Allen was certain that Kanda had his own share of unease, but he was facing this obstacle with his head held up high in typical Kanda fashion. And Allen would be a fool to not face it together with him.

"Hey Kanda," Allen said after a while.

"Hn." _What?_

"I wished...that we'll always be together just like this."

"Watching stars?" _Or do you mean...?_

"It's okay if I don't want to let you go, right?" Silver eyes looked up at him timidly.

"I won't let you go either." _You even need to ask?_

"...Thank you."

"Hmph." _You're welcome, sprout._

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**A/N: **A little more cliché than my usual work, but it was too fluffy for me to resist. (dies from an overdose of sweetness) So it's fine, since I liked this a little more than usual.

Observe 3 will be up next, and it shall be the final part.

And I finished my first Lucky fic this week! _It Takes Three _is now finished; check it out if you want.

See that tempting link on the bottom of this page? It's begging to be clicked... In other words, please let me know your thoughts on this chapter and review! And I've realized that I don't really mention the anonymous reviewers...must remember to do that next time because all of you anons out there mean a lot to me too.


	40. Observe 3

**Title:** Observe (Part Three/Final Part)

**Genre:** Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "You like me, don't you, sprout?"

**Disclaimer:** Oh, Kanda, if only you and Allen weren't so good-looking together, then I would attempt to seduce you away. Pshyeahright. I don't own.

**Notes:** As many of you guessed correctly, Kanda snaps. Yay.

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_i don't know when it happened_

_but i now look at you as if you're my everything_

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Squirming uncomfortably in his seat, Allen glanced up agitatedly at the clock and cursed. He had checked it not even ten seconds ago. But still, it was his last class, and he was eager to go to the library and not entirely out of academic reasons.

Well—okay, he was looking forward to seeing Kanda like he did every day, but it had been even more interesting lately.

Not even paying attention to his teacher's lecture, the freshman let his mind wander. For some reason, Kanda Yuu had started looking his way. Allen had been terrified at first, convinced that the senior had noticed his incessant staring and had probably clued in to his feelings. But as he waited for the confrontation/rejection he thought that would inevitably come, he realized that Kanda didn't do anything besides, well, stare back. He wasn't entirely sure about what Kanda thought of him since he wasn't very familiar with the senior or his facial expressions, but the senior hadn't seemed disgusted.

If anything, he had appeared almost curious, his dark eyes questioning. After a time, though, those dark eyes turned bemused, as if Kanda wasn't sure what to make of him, before slowly sharpening in determination. What Kanda was determined about, Allen didn't know.

It didn't seem as if Kanda would be approaching him anytime soon, so for now, Allen laid aside his fears and was happy enough to occasionally return Kanda's gaze. The senior always held eye contact for a few seconds before looking away. It sent a jolt down Allen's eyes, and he admitted that he was a bit more excited than he should be in this case.

...Maybe once or twice he entertained the thought that Kanda might possibly _like—_but that would be getting ahead of himself, and Allen digressed.

The bell rang, and Allen was one of the first to leap to his feet, having already packed his belongings. However, Lenalee had predicted his move and immediately blocked him.

"Allen, could you stay after school with me for a bit?" she asked casually.

"Er, is it really important?" he asked.

She replied vaguely, "Trust me, you want to stay for this."

"Okay..." Allen sank back down into his seat, and even though he was willing to hear Lenalee out, he was already counting down the minutes to when Kanda would get to the library. The Japanese had been going there earlier and earlier.

The Chinese girl just stood and smiled at him blandly as all the students and eventually the teacher left, leaving the two of them alone in the classroom. Allen fidgeted when it became apparent she wasn't going to say anything.

"Um, Lenalee, so this important thing you wanted to talk about?" he ventured.

She opened her mouth, but the door suddenly rattled and a familiar figure walked in.

"Hmph," Kanda Yuu said, eyes traveling over Allen and Lenalee's still forms. "I don't need you anymore," he directed his words to Lenalee, who nodded, grinned once more, and promptly left the room. Kanda faced Allen who had stiffened up in his seat.

_'Oh my god Kanda Yuu is in front of me,' _was all his mind could get out.

"Che," Kanda huffed, looking him over. "You're shorter than I thought, even for a bean sprout."

That snapped something in Allen, and he roused from his comatose state. "I am not a bean sprout!" he blurted out angrily before suddenly going quiet. _'Oh my god Kanda Yuu is in front of me and he just insulted me and I snapped at him.' _Clearly his brain wasn't in top condition today, but hello, Crush Standing in Front of You?

"Whatever," Kanda snorted. "That's not the point. You like me, don't you, sprout?" His eyes narrowed challengingly.

Something combusted internally and Allen could feel heat rise to his cheeks. "So what if I do?" he glared. Inside, he was panicking and trying to find a way to wriggle out of this situation. So he should have seen this coming and oh fuck, he was going to get rejected, wasn't he? But it wasn't like he really hoped for something to begin with, so he should make a break for it while he could. Silver eyes darted towards the door. Maybe—

"Do you want to go out with me?"

Something combusted internally, and Allen said dazedly, "Aren't we supposed to, er, establish our feelings first?"

"Don't jump to conclusions," Kanda growled out. "I wasn't asking you out, moron. I just wanted to know; do you want to hold hands, go on fucking dates, and make out with me, the whole thing? Do you want it?"

_'Hell yes.' _"Uh," Allen said, and blinked. "Uh. Y-yeah?"

"Tch," was all Kanda said, and he spun around and left the room, slamming the door in the process. Allen stared after him, wondering if he had imagined the tiny flush on Kanda's face. He flinched as Kanda slammed the door open and came back in. "Be ready this Saturday, 6PM." And before Allen could even squeeze in a "Wha—?", he went out again, and this time for good.

The situation felt surreal to Allen. "This is insane," he muttered, still sitting at his desk. One moment, he was happy as a clam just watching the long-haired senior across the library, and the next moment, he had a date with said senior. Some small part of him was dancing with happiness—_'HE ASKED ME OUT, HE ASKED ME OUT, HE LIKES ME!'_—but for the most part, he wondered if he was dreaming.

Damn. Well, if it was a dream, at least it was a good one.

Nevertheless, Allen went home, marked his calendar for Saturday, and went to sleep with a giddy smile.

_'Guess I won't have to stare at him across the library anymore.'_

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**A/N:** Kind of rushed at the end, but I wanted to end Observe here. No, you don't get to see their date. ...No, don't try to convince me other. And—bleh, it really did feel rushed, especially since we don't get to see Kanda coming to terms with his feelings. Let's assume that he, uh, went through typical Kanda denial stages before resigning to the fact that he and the sprout are meant to be. Cough.

And also... (bows deeply) Thanks to all of you who reviewed last time. _Bleached Ink _has passed 400 reviews. Thank you, thank you, and thank you all again.

As always, reviews are appreciated. Review for Kanda's awkwardness at asking out Allen!


	41. Kaleidoscope

**Title:** Kaleidoscope

**Genre:** Romance/Friendship

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** A love affair between a coffee shop employee and a regular. Or not.

**Disclaimer:** No, I don't own DGM, and no, you don't need to use a lie detector machine, and NO, I'm not Hoshino masquerading as some hapless fanfiction writer.

**Notes:** Next time, I want to involve more DGM characters from the Noah family. But not this time.

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_watch as the colors change between us_

_if you are white, then i am your black_

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Being a female, Lenalee Lee prided upon her skills of observation when it came to two people who were either obviously or not-so-obviously attracted to each other. Perhaps female intuition was a lie, but she couldn't for the life of her ignore the glaringly obvious or sneakily subtle interactions between people who _liked _each other.

Even if it involved her coworker and a man whose eyes made you think of the pits in hell and how much brighter they were compared to those freaking eyes.

Allen Walker was one of the most gentlemanly guys she had ever met in her life. It really was a pity that he was gay. He was also up to his eyeballs in debt because of his irresponsible guardian ("The bastardly bastard of a Cross," Allen would mutter angrily under his breath), and Lenalee had taken pity on him and helped him get a part-time job at where she worked at, which was a little coffee shop that was homey but made pretty darn good coffee, if she had to say anything about it. But the name could use some work (Black Order sounded more like a cult than coffee ordered black). He had had a rough time, and Lenalee did everything she could to help him.

Kanda Yuu had become one of the regulars to the point that she called him easily by name and could predict his schedule, and the first time he had entered the shop, Lenalee couldn't help but think about the contrast between him and Allen.

Kanda was dark, scowling, and with a bad attitude. Allen, on the other hand, was pale, smiling, and with a overall cheerful disposition.

Black and white _were _completely opposites. Who knew how these two became attracted to each other? Lenalee didn't, that was for certain, and she hadn't completely seen through to the end at first. But that didn't stop her from observing how Allen pinked ever so slightly when his hands brushed with Kanda's as he handed over the change for the very first time.

She had never seen that color on Allen's face before. How very interesting.

She wondered if this Kanda Yuu would bring out more colors from Allen and his blank world.

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"This coffee is _not _black."

"This is as black as any coffee can get, jerk!"

"I said that this coffee isn't black, so make it again, you sprout."

"I'm wearing a name tag for a reason, Bakanda. It's _Allen. _Allen, got it?"

"You still suck at making coffee."

"How about you make your own coffee from now on?"

"Maybe I _will _since you're such an ass at it."

"Fine!"

"Fine."

Lenalee looked at the still swinging doors and then back at Allen, who huffed and said defensively, "He knows that we have the best coffee around for miles. And I made it black, just like he always wants it. What's his problem?" He huffed again and set about making several fraps for the teenage girls hanging around the shop.

Shrugging, the Chinese girl helped out. She had a feeling that the two of them would clash, although she hadn't known it was this bad. She had been a little surprised that Kanda had bothered arguing since he never had a problem with the coffee before, and even more surprised that Allen had retaliated with a fierceness she rarely saw.

Still, she mused, assholes like Kanda couldn't just tell people that he wanted to talk to them. Maybe arguing was manlier than having a normal conversation.

She peeked at Allen's face, which had a tinge of purple from rage. But his eyes told a different story, shining brightly, almost feverishly.

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As it grew colder, Allen's face started to look blue. Of course, the coffee shop soon warmed him up, but his face seemed to hold a tinge of blue no matter how warm the shop got. Lenalee worried and fussed over him, but Allen laughed it off and said that he was fine. "It's snow, Lenalee," he said happily, pointing outside.

"Do you like winter?" she asked, curious.

The smile slid off his face. "Well, I wouldn't say that..." He looked down at his feet, clearly uncomfortable.

The shift in the atmosphere told Lenalee that she was obviously intruding on what seemed to be a painful memory or experience, but before she could back off gracefully and change the topic, a hand slammed impatiently on the counter in front of them.

"I ordered a fucking black coffee five minutes ago," Kanda Yuu growled.

Allen flustered as Kanda shoved his handsome face at him, still frowning. "Ah, um, I'm sorry, Kanda." He turned to a coffee maker and got to work, completely forgetting about winter and snow. Lenalee stood perfectly still for a moment, letting the situation sink in before turning to face Kanda who failed to hide a satisfied smirk that crossed his face.

"First time you guys didn't have a fight," she threw out casually.

"Hn." Kanda folded his arms, looked away.

"I didn't mean to make him uncomfortable, you know."

"I know," he scoffed.

She hid a smile. "You're a big softie, aren't you?"

"Am not," he retorted.

"Whatever you say."

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The next day, Allen was green. He was sick, of course, but nothing Lenalee said would make him go home. "I need this job," he coughed, pulling out a tissue and blowing his nose while he was at it.

"And I'm saying that I'll talk to the manager. I'm sure he'll understand, Allen."

"But—" Allen got into another coughing fit.

"No buts," she said firmly. "You will go home, have some soup, and take a nap. Right now, Allen." He tried to argue, but she overrode his protests. "I'll visit you later, okay? I'll get you some cold medicine, but we can't be having you spreading that cold to the customers. Don't worry, just go home."

Finally, Allen conceded defeat and left the shop to Lenalee. Mentally checking the calendar in her head, she noticed that Kanda would probably come today. She wondered if he would be disappointed that Allen was absent, but shook her head. It wasn't something he would express aloud.

The bells above the door rang, and Kanda Yuu entered the Black Order coffee shop. His eyes swept around the room restlessly before landing on Lenalee.

"Where's the sprout?" he asked without hesitation.

_'Not very subtle, is he?' _"Sick and at home," she replied.

Deepening lines on his forehead. "The sprout's sick? But he's never sick."

"Well, today he is. He didn't want to take the day off, but I made him go home since he looked pretty bad."

The long-haired man asked darkly, "Where does the sprout live?"

She blinked at that. "I know he lives in one of those apartments near that high school."

Kanda was out the door before she could finish.

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Kanda was acting strangely.

Lenalee peered at him as she worked at the same time. Instead of ordering his coffee and then leaving like he always did, he had sat down on one of the small tables and drank his coffee there while staring out the window. She glanced back at Allen and almost had a heart attack; he had been staring at Kanda so intently that he almost spilled the coffee he was making.

"Focus, Allen," she snapped sternly, somewhat irritated. Sure, Kanda had a pretty face, but that was no reason to waste good coffee.

He turned bright red. "S-sorry."

Softening, she continued, "So what's going on with you and Kanda anyway?"

"Um..." Allen seemed shy all of a sudden, his face still scarlet. "Well, you know how I was sick the other day. And somehow, Kanda found out where I lived and he just knocked the door down and said he had bought some medicine... It was kind of weird and all, but he wasn't a complete arse that day."

The Chinese girl averted her gaze and hastily said, "So you guys are friends now?"

"I...guess?" Allen was hesitant, but the blush didn't leave his face.

The two of them swiveled their heads to survey Kanda who was pointedly ignoring them and continued to look out the window even though there was nothing to see. Allen was still red when they eventually turned back to take more orders, and he stayed mostly red for the rest of the day.

Kanda sat there for a while, long after he had finished his coffee. And when he left, he looked back only once, and it was fleeting enough that Allen didn't quite catch it.

But Lenalee did.

Female intuition or not, she knew it was a bit early for anything serious to development, but it definitely wouldn't stop at just friendship. There was too much tension between the two of them; the good kind of tension, anyway. She decided that it would take a little longer for them to realize what was going on. But she wouldn't mind so much if she kept seeing how many more colors Kanda Yuu could draw out of Allen.

...Maybe she would even give them a push when the time came.

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**A/N: **I am dissatisfied with this. Too long, hurried story line, minimum character development, and I'm starting to recycle some of my plots. Time to get my muse to actually work again. School has started, but I _will _continue to update this regularly, or at least every two weeks. However, any oneshots or multi-chaptered stories have been postponed, which sucks for me since I want to write a real story. Ah well, c'est la vie.

Let me guys know what you think about this. I might start trying my hand at the adventure/fantasy genre more often and less of this fluffy high school romance.


	42. Narcissus

**Title:** Narcissus

**Genre:** Fantasy/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** You've heard about Narcissus, right?

**Disclaimer:** Nope, I don't own anything, not even the Narcissus legend.  
**Notes:** Anyone read the latest chapter of DGM? IT MADE ME SO MAD. I MEAN, KANDA/ALMA? WHAT? I mean, it adds a spin, but really? Kanda/Alma? Is that how it's going to be, Hoshino?

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_they thought me narcissist when actually_

_i just wanted to be with you_

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You've heard about Narcissus, right?

There's several variations of this story, but you've heard it all before. Some nymph called Echo falls in love with the handsome guy, and when he rejects her, she fades away until there's nothing left but her voice which keeps on echoing because of a curse from Hera. That's her story; not all that important, but interesting. Then because he turned down some maiden who didn't know the meaning of letting go, she begs for the goddess of revenge or whatever to make him feel unrequited love. Petty thing, really, and I hardly expected for a goddess to comply to such a selfish request, but then again, I suppose gods don't have anything better to do.

You know the rest. He sees his reflection, falls in love with himself, and when he finally realizes who he fell in love with, he dies and leaves behind the narcissus flower. Just like that.

Except it didn't happen like that.

Narcissus wasn't actually called Narcissus. The boy's name is a mystery, but he was as beautiful as they said, and of course attracted many suitors, both male and female. He was a little funny looking; his hair was supposedly the color of purest marble and his eyes reflected the gleam of the stars, and there were whispers that his body was not in pristine condition. He did get mocked for that at times, but he was way too beautiful for anyone to stone him or anything like that.

Not to mention the rumors that his beauty had come directly from the gods, that perhaps he had been sired by someone as mighty as Zeus. But they were only rumors, and the Greeks left the boy mostly alone while admiring his face all the while.

You can't say that the Greeks didn't appreciate beauty, that's for sure.

But anyway, he had a lot of suitors. A lot of girls wanted him as their husband, and a lot of men wanted him as their _eromenos, _younger male lover. He rejected them all, but not because he felt that they were unworthy of him. This boy was much more humble than that.

He already had an _erastes, _an older man as his lover and protector. People were, however, less than happy with his choice. The boy's lover was only half-Greek, which caused the people to wrinkle their noses at him. The older man, too, had different looks from the average Greek, with long dark hair and slanted, glaring eyes that hinted at a very far, foreign bloodline. He was also rather bad-tempered and seemed harsh towards his _eromenos, _so it would be not too far off for the marble-haired boy's suitors to believe the half-Greek was an abusive lover.

They couldn't have been farther off from the truth. The beautiful, marble-haired boy loved his _erastes _with all the patience and care any lover could have, and the half-Greek in turn demonstrated his love by not allowing any harm to come to the younger boy.

They would have been happy together for many years just like that.

The thing was, the boy made one mistake that would cost him his life and happiness. He turned down this girl named Rhode who had been pursuing him for a while. He thought that she would take the rejection gracefully, but the fact was that she did not.

Rhode was the daughter of Aphrodite, the infamous goddess of love. Rhode herself was a sea nymph, and used to men chasing after her, could not understand why Allen preferred his cold, half-Greek lover over her.

Furious that she could not reach the beautiful boy's heart and sick at seeing him together with a man, she raged at her mother, demanding that the boy suffer for his insolence. The boy was actually one of Aphrodite's favorites, but as a mother, she could not refuse her daughter's anger and sadness. However, Aphrodite refused to kill or main the boy in any way, and sought to preserve some of his beauty forever.

So she led the boy deep into the forests until he was standing by a pool of water, and quietly changed him into a narcissus flower that forever looked across the waters.

Some stories say that he turned into a yellow flower, or a daffodil. But I know for certain that he turned into a white flower. _Narcissus papyraceus, _more commonly known as the Paperwhite.

I don't know much about how the boy's _erastes _reacted towards his disappearance. Perhaps he thought the boy had been killed by a rogue traveler, or kidnapped. Perhaps he mourned, never knowing the cause. Perhaps he ravaged through the forests until he stumbled upon the flower and mourned there, knowing that he could never reach his lover again. Perhaps he killed himself shortly afterward from grief.

But it would be rhetorical to say that he blamed himself for not protecting his lover.

I suppose, in the end, the point of the story of Narcissus did not change. Unrequited love, jealousy, sadness...

I really do hope that, in their next lives, the boy and his half-Greek lover can be happy together without interference. But that's another story, really.

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"Kanda, what's with the flower?" Lavi eyed him strangely, and Kanda couldn't blame the redhead. But he couldn't explain how he just had to buy the flower when he saw it, and now he sat in the cafe, playing with the silky petals and absently reminding himself that he had to put it in water when he got home.

The only way to put it was that he felt as if the flower had called him. But of course he wasn't going to tell Lavi that, and said instead, "Mind your own fucking business."

His roommate shrugged. "Eh, just never took you for a flower person."

Kanda glanced down at the white flower. The florist had told him it was a narcissus flower, or Paperwhite, and knowing the story of Narcissus, Kanda wondered if this was supposed to send him some kind of message. It wasn't like he was some conceited ass, but still, he felt slightly tense even as he cupped the flower in his hand, careful to leave the petals intact.

It was as if something was going to happen—

_Bam._

Kanda stared down at the three glasses of soda that had landed on his person, effectively soaking his clothes, feeling his head starting to ache in anger and exasperation. Of all of the—!

"I'm sorry!" came the frantic yell from somewhere near him. Looking around, the college student spotted the waiter (who had presumably dropped the glasses on him) holding an empty and dampened tray. Wide silver eyes were even wider from shock and horror. "I'm so sorry!" the waiter babbled. "It was an accident, really; here, let me clean this up."

Across from him, Lavi was snickering.

_'Damn waiter,'_ Kanda thought to himself, pissed. _'And what's with that hair? All freaky and white...'_

He was so absorbed in finding a way to properly chew off the waiter's head for his clumsiness that he didn't notice that the narcissus flower had disappeared from his hands.

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**A/N: **Trying out different ways of writing. Hehe, and you know, Aphrodite really did have a daughter named Rhode. Apparently she got it on with Poseidon and out came Rhode. That was really how I got the idea for this story. Hehe.

Anyway, guys... Latest chapter of DGM. Spoilers.

WHAT. WHAT. KANDA/ALMA? WHAT. Okay, sure, so it wasn't really them, but the people they were before, but WHAT. Grr. Hoshino.

Cough. Anyway. Let me know what you guys think about it. I really do appreciate the feedback you guys give me.


	43. Quagmire

**Title:** Quagmire

**Genre:** Drama/Hurt/Comfort

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Allen thinks about not thinking about it. Not explicitly, at least.

**Disclaimer:** "Why is it that Kanda and Allen are not making out in canon?" Because I'm not drawing the stinking manga, that's why.

**Notes:** AHHH. AHHH. CHAPTER 199. AHHH.

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_get out of my head_

_i'm hurting myself enough as it is_

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Life was one big mess, a huge blob of memories, thoughts, and decisions all thinly connected to each other. Allen tried to put his finger on one of them and trace to the beginning, but he got lost each and every time, his finger stumbling at a tangled web of events that he didn't even want to unravel. In a way, it was a good thing; some memories were too painful, too humiliating for him to constantly think about. And other times—well, he didn't want to think about other times at the moment.

He was lying on his bed, staring absently at his ceiling. There were the glow-in-the-dark stars that his adoptive father, Mana, helped him put up. He used to lie awake in the dead of night, eyes fixated on the little stars.

Sometimes he still did that.

His phone was vibrating like mad. He had switched it to vibrate after he got tired of hearing his ring tone. Besides, Backstreet Boys reminded him too much of Kanda right now. "You listen to this shit?" Kanda would say every time his phone went off, but Allen would smile secretly to himself since he had once caught Kanda humming to that band.

Turning the phone, he stared at caller ID. Lavi. He didn't want to talk to Lavi.

The phone was left alone, and Allen went back to staring at the stars.

He really ought to be doing something productive, like cleaning up his room. It was still a mess from his episode yesterday. It had been impossible for Kanda and Alma to get out of his head, and it must have overheated his brain cells or something because the next thing he knew, he was smashing anything breakable in sight.

There was still some glass on the floor. He should sweep the pieces up before he stepped on them. Chances were, he would step on the glass, and then Mana would go crazy at the sight of his injury and demand that he be driven to the hospital to get stitches.

Or worse, Mana would ask him what in the world was making him depressed to the point that he had shattered the windows in his room.

Mana had been gracious enough to leave him alone, but that graciousness wasn't going to last, and it definitely wasn't going to last long enough for Allen to collect his wits if he stepped on glass.

_Vrr. Vrr._

He glanced at the phone. Now it was Lenalee. They were taking turns spamming him with phone calls, no doubt, and trying to annoy him into answering his phone. Too bad he was feeling more tired than annoyed.

It really wasn't surprising that Kanda hadn't tried to call him. That bastard was probably on a date with Alma at the amusement park or something. Personally, he had never been able to convince Kanda to go to any amusement park, but then again, he wasn't Alma, and Alma had persuasive powers over Kanda that Allen couldn't even dream of.

And he didn't even want to dream about said persuasive powers, so he reached for the phone to turn it off.

_Vrr. Vrr._

Huh. It wasn't Lavi or Lenalee. It was Rhode.

Allen considered for about five seconds, then shook his head. Rhode was an alright person, and he thought that maybe it would be nice to talk to someone, but there was the risk that Rhode was calling him to "mend his broken heart". So not Rhode either.

He didn't switch his phone off.

_Don't think about it. Don't think about it._

He wasn't sure of the extent of the damage he had done to his room. He knew for sure that he had gone through every single box in his closet, ripping up any pictures of Kanda he had seen and throwing the little things Kanda had given him at the wall. The walls were slightly dented on some areas. The lamp at his desk had also been knocked over, scattering papers here and there. He'd have to rewrite that essay now.

And when he had calmed down from that rage, he deleted anything on his laptop that reminded him of Kanda. Even in his rage-triggered mode, he had been smart enough to stay away from the computer. Didn't want to break that, no sirree. And now there weren't any files on his documents, including any school stuff.

He'd have to make up everything, and he didn't care.

_Don't think about it. Don't think about—_

_Vrr. Vrr._

An unfamiliar number. He decided to take the call.

"_Hello?"_

His mind blanked. It was...

"_Allen?"_

What should he say in this situation? Was he with—?

"_Um, I understand if you don't want to talk, but..."_

He took a deep breath. Glanced at his desk, where a framed picture had been flipped so the photo couldn't be seen. There was glass around that too. It had been the first thing he had broken when he couldn't take it anymore.

Allen didn't want to have to take this anymore. He needed this out of his life, and that was the only reason why, he told himself later, he didn't hang up on Alma.

"Hi," he said evenly.

_Stay away from me._

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**A/N: **SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 199 BELOW.

Oh, the humanity. I mean, Kanda calls Allen by his name _finally, _but then he goes on some honeymoon with Alma in the ark? Does this mean we won't ever see Kanda again? SAY IT ISN'T SO.

Anyway, let me know what you think about this chapter. The point of this chapter was really to emphasize on how Allen wasn't thinking about a certain incident, which is why you might be a little confused because you're all "wtf is going on". But as you probably guessed, there was Yullen, and then Alma came strolling back into Kanda's life, and basically, it was a, "I love you, but I love him more." Except, you know, in Kanda-nese.

Yeah. No happy ending for Kanda/Allen. I felt like breaking windows like Allen (KANDA/ALMA WTF) so I channeled that energy into this.

**frieda**: I hear you. Kanda/Alma freaks me out more than vaccines. And let me tell you, I had to be restrained by three nurses before I let that needle touch my skin. **xXCherryLicoriceXx**: Glad you liked it. But eh, I doubt Narcissus could have been any longer. I'm not too good with lengthy plots. I get impatient. **waterlit**: Haha, well, I considered making Allen or Kanda really conceited as Narcissus, but that would be extremely OOC. Glad you liked it.


	44. Ukulele

**Title:** Ukulele

**Genre:** Adventure/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** He had enemies firing at him, an annoying partner, and an ukelele for a weapon. Joy.

**Disclaimer:** If I bleached my hair, do you think I could get away with seducing Kanda and making him my slave? Thought so.

**Notes:** Uh, I was sick when I came up with this. No, literally, I had the flu. And I kind of pulled the mafia idea from Katekyo Hitman Reborn!.

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_if i'm the left, you're the right_

_different but the same_

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Having been trained with weapons all his life, Kanda uncommonly proficient with swords, guns, you name it. It wasn't as if he _asked _to be born into the mafia, but hell, he wasn't complaining either. He didn't know another life outside of the mafia, and besides, he had an affinity for anything pointy (obviously he preferred swords over guns, but that wasn't always practical in this day and age). But if the need arose, he could make a weapon out of a toothpick if he so wished. Really, anything could be a weapon, and any respectable mafia man was capable of adapting to the situation and whipping up a weapon out of nowhere, even if it was a table shield.

A fucking ukulele was not, however, something he felt particular compelled to use. Especially if he was in a life or death situation.

"Okay, we messed this one up good," Allen, his partner and self-proclaimed right hand man (only because there was something weird about his left arm, but that was something else entirely), whistled while crouching behind the table Kanda had pulled up as a shield against the bullets.

Especially if he was in a life or death situation with Allen Walker.

"Why do they always send _you _with _me_?" he hissed at Allen, who was glancing around the room.

"Looks like this is all we got," Allen proclaimed, ignoring Kanda entirely. Instead, the white-haired brat patted the ukulele that was resting on his lap, looking almost fond of it. "We're going to get through this somehow."

_This _happened to be a casual party hosted by some hotshot CEO who apparently had a liking for tropical themes. If Kanda turned his head a little to the side, he would see the pink plastic flamingos set up by the walls. There were beach balls, surfboards, and leis garlands scattered around on the tables that hadn't been upturned already. Kanda had been forced to wear a flowery Hawaiian shirt and khakis to blend in with the party, much to his humiliation and anger. Allen, on the other hand, had been ecstatic, even sticking a huge red flower in his hair, and had been so absorbed in eating shish kabob that he almost forgot why they were here.

Said hotshot CEO was kind of an asshole who had various shady dealings to get to where he was. He took advantage of the mafia Kanda was in. The Black Order was a clean, community-friendly mafia, but hell to all that if a CEO thought he could get away with their money.

Honestly, they were just going to corner the guy after the party, do some threatening, maybe wave an unloaded gun around for effects, and then leave with a fat check. But the jerk wasn't an idiot and decided to sic his freaking security guards on them the moment they went up to him and told him they wanted a little chat.

Cue life or death situation.

A bullet came flying dangerously close to Kanda's face. He swore and curled his body into a ball. He had to get the hell out of here and out of the stupid shirt. "Sprout! Lift this table with me and get to the fucking exit!"

Allen peeked above the table, looking for the exit. "Um, Kanda, you know those palm trees they set up by the door?"

"What about the palm trees?"

"...Yeah, uh, obviously there are security guards blocking the exit _and _hiding behind the palm trees. They're not stupid enough to leave the exit open."

Motherfucker.

Wasn't there anything that they could use (besides the ukulele)? The only thing Kanda had was an unloaded gun. Maybe if he went back to one of the bullet holes now decorating the walls, and then dislodged a bullet... Or maybe he could get one of those shish kabob sticks and...

"Think I could sing them to sleep?" Allen fingered one of the strings on the ukulele dubiously. "I mean, I could take a shot at them, but I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"We don't have any bullets, moron," Kanda growled.

"I wasn't talking about _our _gun."

It took all of five seconds for Kanda to realize what Allen was saying, and when he finally understood, he nearly strangled the little white-haired brat. "You're saying that you got one of their guns, one of their _loaded _guns, and didn't think to tell me this before?" He was literally spitting in Allen's face, shaking the brat's shoulders hard enough that his head bobbed back and forth uncomfortably. "You fucking sprout!"

"Calm down, you jerk!" Allen yelled back angrily, even as his neck stretched in awkward positions. "I thought you knew already! I was holding the bloody thing in my hands! In plain sight!"

"You said that that fucking ukulele was the only thing we had!"

"I was being sarcastic!"

"Give me the gun!"

"No! You always aim for the face! You know how painful that is?"

They juggled the gun between them, and somehow, the trigger went off and right into one of the plastic flamingos.

The security guards must have assumed they didn't have weapons before because they started yelling at each other. "They're armed! Hurry and disable them!" Then they started firing even more at the pair still ducked behind the table, which had splintered and barely held up.

Allen yelped when a strand of his hair was cut. "Kanda! Give me the gun right now and let me shoot them!" He tried to push Kanda away, but the Japanese was stronger. "Argh, move, move, move!"

"You have shitty aim!" Kanda got hold of the gun and immediately started firing at the security guards, who swore angrily.

Allen was left with the ukulele. "Kanda, you—you arsehole!"

"I'm getting you out of this alive, so you better thank me!"

The next thing Kanda knew, Allen had smashed his head with the ukulele, and as his vision grew fuzzy and darkened, he heard the sprout say, "Oops. Sorry about this, princess."

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Kanda scowled from the hospital bed. "You gave me a concussion."

"Yeah, well, it was easier carrying you out of there when you were unconscious."

"You didn't have to carry me at all."

"While you were wasting the bullets on that gun, I set one of the tablecloths on fire and triggered the sprinkler system. That was how we got out of there alive, so you should be thanking _me._" Allen looked and sounded smug, and Kanda tried to sit up to wipe that smirk from the sprout's face before he remembered that he had been strapped down to the bed. The other mafia members had learned from previous experiences that Kanda never listened to any doctor's orders to rest.

"Fuck you."

"You wish."

"..."

"Anyway, the boss decided to promote me."

"What? The mission was a failure."

"Heh. I forgot to mention that I sneaked into that CEO's office, broke into his safe, and carried most of the money back. Bit stupid of him to leave his safe there, really."

"...You..."

"But I told Komui that I was fine where I was."

"What? You got fucking _promoted._ What the hell?"

"I figured that since it took so long for us to finally work together smoothly, it would be a waste to get a new partner at this point."

"If you think we work smoothly, then you're a dumber sprout than I thought."

"Uh-huh. Anyway, I'm kind of hungry. See you later, jerk."

"Whatever," Kanda huffed. Stupid brat had thrown away a perfectly good opportunity to get himself recognized in the family. And he was pretty sure that it wasn't because of him; they worked as well as water and oil would work together. Still, it was really strange of Allen to do something like that...

He glanced down at his body and cursed. He was still wearing the stupid flowery shirt.

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**A/N: **...Hey, if I had literally based this off of KHR, Kanda would have been Squalo. Don't they look alike? And they're both swordsmen.

I know, I know. No real slash. But this is preslashy! Kind of. Well.

Let me know what you think, guys.

**lafia**: Eh, for me, I felt like saying, "Kanda, if you run off with Alma who is dying anyway, you're going to miss your chance with Allen~" **Your Stalker**: Yeah, I'm trying to console myself with the fact that even if Kand and Alma's past lives were in love, THEY ARE DIFFERENT. **Bootsie**: Oh, Kanda's going to be back, unless Hoshino wants hundreds of Kanda fangirls to turn their face to the wall and die. a**nonymous**: Ahh, yeah, I don't like Kanda with Alma either, but I was focusing more on Allen's side of the whole deal. But yeah, I will never support Kanda/Alma.


	45. Conversation 4

**Title:** Conversation (Part Four)

**Genre:** Drama/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "Kanda, I need you to strip down and be my nude model."

**Disclaimer:** Is dying. And waiting. For the next DGM chapter.

**Notes:** Important A/N later, so read it.

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_drug me, tie me, love me_

_no one understands my art but you_

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"Kanda, I need you to strip down and be my nude model."

"...No."

"What? I don't see the problem."

"You just hit on me, you fucking moron. And no."

"I need a model for my art project. And the teacher loves nude pictures or something, so I should get an A on this."

"...Go ask Lavi."

"He's been avoiding me all day. How the bloody hell he found out about my project, I don't know, but—"

"No."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, Kanda."

"_Wha—_"

"We're all males here, so don't be shy. And I'm a professional artist. I won't ogle your goods or anything."

"I will kill you, and then rip your head off, and then give your head to your art teacher."

"Huh. Don't know if that's Tiedoll's thing."

"Go away."

"Scared of me seeing your junk?"

"Sprout."

"You might want to stop the name-calling. I might drop my artist professionalism and have my wicked way with you...forcefully, if it comes to that."

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you now."

"Well—"

"That's not a reason. Get out of my fucking way."

"Look, we can do this the hard way, or the easy way."

"Fuck that."

"You can agree to be my model right now, in sane mind—"

"You're high on something, aren't you? _Over my dead body._"

"—or I can find another way to drag your unconscious body into my studio and potentially molest you at the same time."

"Asshole. Why me?"

"Uh, because you're really pretty. But not because I want to see your naked body."

"Shitty sprout."

"Really. And besides, Tiedoll told the whole class that he's been dying to draw you for years. And years. And—years."

"That old man should just drop dead."

"You're so kind to your father."

"He's not my father."

"Uh-huh, and who picked you up from the foster home at the tender age of two?"

"Fuck, he told you that?"

"So I figured that if I draw you, he'll give me extra credit. My grade's kind of borderline."

"Fuck your extra credit and fuck you."

"Tch. Looks like I'll have to drug you after all."

"What?"

"Nothing."

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**A/N: **Don't look at me like that. You want to see Kanda nude too.

Hey, guess what? It's almost November. And guess what? NANOWRIMO! For those of you who know what it's about, it means I'll be on hiatus for all of November. I'll still be working on my stories, but I won't be updating/publishing anything. Thanks for understanding!

For the greenhorns, go to http:/ www. nanowrimo . org for more info.

And for those who are also participating, I wish you all well on your 50,000-word journey throughout November. Break a leg, writers.

Reviews are always appreciated.


	46. Vaccine

**Title:** Vaccine

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "Why did you kill them?"

**Disclaimer:** Sir, I'm telling you, this is a genuine ownership contract that—oh, sod it. I don't own DGM, okay?

**Notes:** Huh. Don't know where this came from.

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_end of the line_

_good-bye, good-bye_

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"So first, they put me to sleep. I won't know that I'm dead—I'll be dead before I wake up. Haha.

"Then I'm completely paralyzed. You know, they say that this way of execution is supposed to be painless, but how will they know if I'm paralyzed? I can't say ouch. Hah. Guess this isn't the perfect execution method. No wonder they have debates about the ethnicity of this.

"My heart is stopped. That's how I'll die. A cardiac arrest will finish me off.

"Can you feel your heart stopping? Either way, I won't feel it."

Allen Walker didn't sound like a man who was about to die in fifteen minutes. But Walker was hardly a man either. The last five years in prison did little to help him grow up; his eyes were still too big for his face, his figure too slender, and his voice a note too high. It was a boyish voice, a sweet voice, but it never once lied to Kanda. And if he had to be perfectly honest, that was what scared him the most. He had half a mind to tell Walker that.

"You couldn't care less, could you?" Kanda said instead.

Walker smiled blandly. "I've known about the death sentence for months now. I've had time to get used to it."

Kanda Yuu looked down at his notepad. "You want to die?"

"Let's be honest," Walker replied. "I should have been killed a long time ago. Bloody prison system made me wait for five years." He paused, waiting for a stinging answer from the other man, but was disappointed. "You're a bit off today, Kanda. Isn't it dangerous for reporters to be off their game? You're not going to get to interview me again this time."

"You've never cooperated the other times, you piece of _shit_," Kanda hissed. Almost immediately, he calmed. "Piece of shit," he repeated.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Walker said, scanning the room vaguely. "You've gotten more information out of me than any other reporter or interrogator ever had."

"And now you're going to die," the Japanese reporter spat out.

"Touchy. I thought reporters weren't supposed to get attached."

Kanda recoiled as if he had been slapped. "Attached? _Attached? _The fucking higher ups stuck me on your case. For _five fucking years. _I had to visit you every other week. I asked you the same questions in every interview, and you never gave me a straight answer. And you say that I got attached?"

"I would be surprised if you didn't, actually," Walker said mildly. He shifted in his orange suit. Played with his handcuffs.

"Your first trial was ridiculous."

"Was it?"

"You confessed to the murders before the prosecution even began the opening statement."

Walker considered Kanda for a moment, his eyes carefully blank. "Oh yes, that. I gave my lawyer quite a shock. Nearly tore out his hair, he did."

"Why did you do it?" Kanda was angry, and he was dangerously close to throttling Walker in his orange jumpsuit, death sentence or not.

Walker's hair was white. It had turned white during his sentence. _Because of shock, _doctors had told Kanda. _He'll always look like that. Always. _Now he fingered it as he said, "Because it was the truth. I'm the murderer. I did it." He looked down at the floor. "Wanted to save the court from spending too much time on the case. Didn't work."

Kanda's employer, Bak Chan of The Ark Chronicles, would be pissed if he didn't jot something down from this final interview. So Kanda scribbled one or two lines before asking, "Why did you kill them?"

Something tightened in Walker's eyes. They were silver. "I'll never answer that."

"You're going to die," Kanda said. "You're going to be a fucking corpse in twenty minutes."

"Tell me something new for once."

"The doctors said that you had signs of bipolarity."

Walker seemed to be getting angry now. "And we've gone over this again and again. I'm not bipolar, and I don't care what they say. There's no one else in my head. I did it, I killed them, and I'm not taking that statement back. It's too late for that."

"But you never gave evidence that you did it," Kanda persisted. He was angry again, angry because Walker was angry.

"Mana Walker," Walker snapped. "Age thirty-three, death by knife wounds on the abdomen and chest."

"You're just repeating what you know—"

"He was my father. He was my _father, _you _bastard. _I crept up behind him."

"Everyone knew about this, this doesn't prove anything—"

"I was going to stab him from the back. So that he wouldn't know."

"Goddamnit, Walker, you loved him, you told me you loved—"

"He turned around and saw me. He saw me. And he called me, do you know what he called me?"

"You, bean sprout, you—"

"_Don't _call me that!" Walker suddenly shrieked. He was shaking in his handcuffs, shaking violently so that the chains were rattling against each other. His face was red and livid, almost deranged combined with his white hair. And he slumped against the wall. "He called me Neah."

Kanda's hand reached out to Walker despite himself. "Bean sprout."

"He was high. I don't know. Cocaine, maybe. And he didn't see me. He never saw me." Walker's head slowly raised up, and his eyes were shining. "Kanda, he never saw _me. _What was I supposed to do?" He stepped away from the wall, tugged at his hair. "I don't remember. I don't remember what—what happened next. But he was the first, wasn't he?"

"...So you didn't do it. None of it."

Walker seemed to rouse himself from a deep slumber. "I suppose," he began thickly, "that this is your best interview yet." He chuckled. "I think it's time. Yes, I'm sure that it's time. I suppose this is farewell."

"Bean sprout—"

"Kanda." Walker's eyes were so tired. "You can't do anything for me anymore."

And he was led away by two guards.

Kanda Yuu pressed his forehead against the wall. The notepad lay forgotten on the floor. He stood perfectly still before thumping his head, hard. "Shit," he muttered to himself. "Shit. _Shit._"

Then, he shouted down the hall, "_Shit!_"

…

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…

Inside a room, strapped down to a gurney, Allen Walker watched as his arm was dabbed with alcohol. He watched the needles slip under his skin, one for each arm. He closed his eyes and waited patiently.

And then he didn't have to wait anymore.

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**A/N: **Did anyone miss me during my month-long hiatus? Heh. Hope you guys aren't confused by this story, but ask any questions you might have if you really don't get it. Not much to say except that reviews are always appreciated. You guys are awesome.

**The Only Princess**: Thank you for all of your reviews! And eh, I'm okay with both Lucky and LaviLena. **waterlit**: Thanks for reviewing! **The Raven Mage**: Thank you for reviewing. Lenalee _is _pretty awesome. Or maybe I just think she is. Heh.


	47. Xenophile

**Title:** Xenophile

**Genre:** Friendship/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Allen and the Japanese exchange student clash.

**Disclaimer:** One day, I shall give up on writing disclaimers and say, "INDEED, I OWN DGM...oh, hi Hoshino."

**Notes:** I promised something happier than the last story, but there's a lack of Yullen. Oh well.

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_speak to me in foreign tongues_

_wrap me in your alien arms_

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The boy was sitting in the back of the classroom, next to Lavi. His arms were folded, and he was scowling down at his desk as if it had committed a personal grievance against him. His hair was ridiculously long and girly, all dark and shiny which contrasted with his pale skin and sharp eyes.

Definitely Japanese.

Allen slung his backpack on the floor, settling down and turning his head to stare at the Japanese exchange student and Lavi. The redhead student caught his eyes, and mouthed, _Hey Allen, guess who I brought to school today!_

_A girl? _Allen mouthed back, his eyes laughing.

_Better. A _Japanese _girl, _Lavi answered.

Unfortunately, the Japanese "girl" noticed their silent conversation, and apparently knew English. He punched Lavi's side, and the redhead doubled over. Even Allen could tell that Lavi hadn't been faking it, and he would have leaped to the defense of his friend (even from the distance) except then the Japanese turned his gaze onto Allen.

_You are dead, _he hissed without making a sound.

Allen was saved from having to reply when the teacher cleared her throat loudly and said, "Hello, class. I see that we have a student from Japan today. He's with you, Lavi, yes?"

"Yup!"

"How about you introduce him?"

Lavi stood up importantly. "This is Kanda Yuu. He's a senior from Japan, so he's about two years older than most of us, and he decided to come here so he can practice his English." Kanda Yuu bared his teeth when Allen glanced over at him, and then made a motion of cutting off his head. Allen narrowed his eyes and leaned back, trying to appear unimpressed and succeeding.

"How lovely," the teacher said, having missed the entire exchange. "So today, we'll be discussing some of the causes that led to World War II..."

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"The Japanese were a bunch of _arseholes,_" Allen hissed. "Their stupid militaristic government turned them into a bunch of crazed _kamikazes _who invaded China and then decided to ally with stupid _Germany._"

"Language, Allen..." the teacher said nervously. Allen ignored her.

Their desks had been pushed into a crooked circle so that they could have a debate—"_Friendly _discussion," the teacher had pleaded—on World War II. Unfortunately, Allen usually sat next to Lavi during debates, and he had momentarily forgotten that Kanda was also sitting next to Lavi. It resulted in them glaring at each other over the redhead, and then Kanda made the mistake of calling Allen a _gaki. _Whatever the hell that meant.

Kanda had kicked Lavi out of his desk so that he could face Allen directly. "The British are _okubyōmono _compared to our _kamikaze_ fighters," he spat.

Kanda's English really was something to commend. It was probably why the rest of the class was just sitting there and watching the two of them go at each other with wide eyes without saying one word. Probably.

"Yeah, well... You guys invaded China!"

"Britain were too scared to stop that _baka _Germany because you were scared of a little war."

"Um, guys—" Lavi tried to squeeze into the conversation.

Two pairs of eyes, one silver and one black, turned onto Lavi. "Shut up, Lavi," Allen gritted through his teeth, looking as if he might throw something against the wall.

"_Urusai_," Kanda snapped.

"You bloody Americans had to save the bloody day—again. Just like in World War I."

"Your country is full of itself," Kanda sneered. "A _jāku _country with a _kudaranai_ president." He towered over Lavi, who shrank back down into his seat and mumbled "okay then don't mind me continue please".

The teacher squeaked. "This is verbal harassment, I'll have you know! Students shouldn't—"

"Like your country is any better," Allen was saying, his attention on Kanda once more. "You and your stupid anime and manga. The boys always look like girls, and the girls are more curvaceous than a bleeding _lamp shade._"

"You bombed the crap out of us!" The exchange student was shouting, his accent becoming more apparent as his voice got louder.

"What—it was _America _that bombed the crap out of you!"

Pause.

"_Sore wa hontōdesu_," Kanda conceded grudgingly.

…

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…

"Kanda says that he wants to talk to you." Lavi fidgeted.

Allen took one look at the redhead and Japanese, and then shook his head. "Absolutely not. Ms. Wendy told me after class that if she got wind of any more arguments, she would drop my grade down. And it's _borderline_; I can't afford for it to drop."

"Allen—" Lavi began to say, but was interrupted by Kanda.

"A-ren."

"I can never understand why you Japanese had to make your 'l' sound like an 'r'," Allen grumbled. "Or 'r' sound like an 'l'. It's a weird combination, actually. It's _Allen, _Allen with two l's."

Kanda stepped closer until they were eye-to-eye. "_Anata. Watashi,_" he said pointedly, jabbing his finger at Allen and then himself. "_Hōkago, fīrudo de._"

"What's he saying?" Allen hissed to Lavi.

"No idea," Lavi shrugged. "I take _French. _I only worry about conjugating verbs."

Kanda growled. "I will beat you up," he said lowly. "And then break your arms. And your legs. And everything."

"You know," Allen said, "your English really isn't half-bad. ...You're still a prick, though."

The exchange student smirked. "The field after school," he said. "That was what I said before. You have a _baka kuchi_, and I'm going to rip it out of you. Slowly. With _kōfuku_." He tossed his long ponytail out of the way and folded his arms, looking dead serious.

Allen fingered his jaw, uneasily feeling his lips twitch at Kanda's words. "I'm really not interested in getting anything of mine ripped out, whatever it was that you said you would rip out. But anything else you want to say to me?"

"Yeah. Don't be late."

"I really think that you guys have nascent crushes on each other." Lavi blinked when Allen gaped at him and Kanda seemed confused.

"I do _not_," Allen said.

"What is 'nascent'?" Kanda said.

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**A/N: **Some part of me died on the inside and didn't want to do anything this week. This includes writing this. It was supposed to be more Yullen-y, but I was feeling lazy and I didn't want to hook them up together.

...AND ALLEN GOT IMPRISONED IN THE LAST CHAPTER, AND I KIND OF DIED IN THAT MOMENT. THAT'S WHY.

Any Japanese that was used in this chapter isn't accurate since I used Google translator. Pity I don't know Japanese.

Anyway. Right now, I would like to crawl under a rock and stay dead. Hopefully my muse will be revived sometime soon.

Reviews are always appreciated.


	48. Zealot

**Title:** Zealot

**Genre:** Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "He must be eliminated. You don't have a choice."

**Disclaimer:** My disclaimers are half-arsed. Whatever. I don't own.

**Notes: ** Still dead, for the record. And some angst, dorkish moments, and...I don't know.

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_surrender everything to me_

_your heart, your love, your beliefs_

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"He's dangerous," they said. "He must be eliminated," they said. "You don't have a choice," they said.

"But I need more _time_," Allen remembered yelling back, frustrated and angry and _dammit, _they knew that he was stalling. He knew that they knew he was stalling, and the worse part was that he knew they were never going to let him get away with it. Even if he got the job done now, there would be consequences.

He left headquarters feeling sick at heart. He went home.

Home was a small apartment, with two cats and an irritated Japanese bartender who had about a million contacts who told him anything and everything of interest, a handy but ultimately fatal ace up his sleeve. Allen Walker bitterly wished that he had never met Kanda Yuu. Almost as soon as the thought came to mind, he wished that he hadn't wished that because Allen Walker had a lot of regrets, but meeting Kanda Yuu wasn't one of them.

Joining the Millennium family was.

He hadn't been aware that the Millennium family consisted of a group of zealots who were looking to put the head of the family on top of the world, both literally and figuratively. The Millennium Earl had taken Allen in when he had been a child, and he became part of the family.

Allen soon learned that "family" held a different definition with Millennium. There were family dinners, holidays, and vacations, all of that and more, but being part of the family meant that there were certain standards that one had to live up to.

That wasn't an obligation. That was a requirement, and Allen found this out the hard way.

His first birthday present was a gun.

He killed his first target at age seven.

He killed his first civilian by accident at age nine.

He killed the first person he knew at age thirteen.

He killed his first friend at age fifteen.

And—if he still planned to follow Millennium after this assignment—he would kill the first person he loved at age nineteen.

He opened the door to his apartment, muttering, "I'm home" without really expecting a reply. A sofa cushion promptly came crashing into his face, and while it didn't hurt, he couldn't help but leave the cushion on his face, feeling vulnerable and not wanting to look at Kanda. "Some people say 'welcome back', you know."

"Don't be a fucking idiot," Kanda snorted from the sofa. Mugen, who had been a stray black cat before he had been picked up by Kanda, was curled on his lap.

The other cat, an orange tabby, mewed up at Allen and rubbed against his leg. He smiled despite himself, dropping the cushion and picking up the tabby, stroking the cat's back. "Hello, Timcanpy," he crooned gently, rubbing noses with the feline. "Did you miss me? Did you get bigger while I was gone?"

"You saw the thing this morning," his lover retorted. Looking over at Kanda, Allen could see that the bartender was reading a book.

Sidling over to the living room, he approached Kanda from the back and rested his head on his shoulder. "What are you reading?" he asked, squinting down at the words in the book. It wasn't Japanese, that much he could tell.

"Charles fucking Dickens," the bartender answered, frowning.

"...You read Charles Dickens."

"This bastard is a sick fuck," Kanda said, turning the page without missing a beat. "Sick. Fuck."

"So you like him?"

"Fucking hell no." _Yes. Maybe. Sort of. I didn't say that._

Allen couldn't help but snicker lightly at this. Kanda worked at a bar that was less than respectable, where fights and brawls broke out daily and Kanda more often than not came home with bruises because he had to pull some jerks off of each other. Kanda swore more than Allen was usually comfortable with and carried a switchblade to work because better fucking safe than sorry. He had a soft spot for cats, especially Mugen, and was secretly ashamed of his lack of education.

Hence Charles Dickens, no doubt, and _A Tale of Two Cities _at that.

_He's dangerous._

But he wasn't, not really. He was Kanda, and Allen loved him, although he didn't have the chance to tell the other man that. Or maybe he was scared, but that wasn't important, not when he was forced to _choose. _

Nothing was more important than family. That was what Millennium had hammered into him after years and years of training and living and killing. That was what Millennium had to give him, along with family dinners, holidays, and vacations.

Timcanpy pawed at Allen's chest, and he closed his eyes.

Not now. He wasn't going to think about it. Not now.

"Fucking bastard uses too many words," Kanda was saying. "Where's the fucking action? What's he going to _do_? What a fuck."

"I know," Allen murmured. "I know..."

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**A/N: **Huh. This feels unfinished. And there's a lot of information crammed into this. Lot of backstory stuff for Allen. Huh.

Reviews are appreciated. BUT AN UPDATE WOULD BE NICER, HOSHINO. WHERE'S THE NEXT CHAPTER?


	49. Editorial

**Title:** Editorial

**Genre:** Friendship/Tragedy

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "I didn't think I would have to write about one of us dying."

**Disclaimer:** Unicorns are real, and I own DGM. ...HA.

**Notes:** Um, so my stories haven't been exactly happy Yullen material lately. And I don't think that's going to change for a while. (Okay. I don't know actually about that. But I'm really sorry about the unhappy trend I've been setting. Hopefully it'll change. Really.)

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_wish that i can keep you alive_

_more than through the ink on paper_

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"I know that budget cuts are necessary, but it's always too bad that the music and art groups get the worst of it," Lenalee said, crossing her arms and speaking slowly. "We can petition, but there's not much we can do otherwise. Art is really unappreciated in this school; we haven't even had the opportunity to raise funds even."

"I can see that. It's clubs that have more freedom to have fund raisers," Allen remarked, holding his audio recorder with a steady hand. "But I can see your point. There used to be some electives like writing, cooking, law, and all of that, but they were cut because the school was broke."

"Right." Lenalee nodded.

Checking his watch, Allen said, "All right, that's good enough. Thanks for your input."

The art student rolled her eyes. "You don't need to be so formal," she teased, poking him in the forehead. She rose from her seat and stretched languidly. "Journalists are supposed to be perky and nosy and selfish."

With a smile, Allen tucked the recorder into his pocket. "Now that's a stereotype."

"Okay, sure. Are you going to stay in the library or something?"

Allen laughed, and then shifted so that Lenalee could see the digital camera strapped to his arm "No, I need to get a picture of the field. Some of the football and soccer kids want a new field, and the track team wants a new track. I'm supposed to get a picture of how bad our field looks like right now, and then somehow write an article that will convince the board to save up for that."

"Right after an article about budget cuts?" The Chinese girl shook her head. "Have fun with that."

"It's not like budget cuts _aren't _fun," Allen began, and then cut himself off. "Okay, I guess they're pretty boring, but not everyone on The Arc can write columns for every single issue. Besides, it's nice to write about something as stupid as budget cuts now and then." His smile dropped off his face, and he fiddled with his bag.

Lenalee stared at him for a moment, and then reached out a hand to palm his forehead. "Allen," she said gently. "Is it really okay for you to be back so soon?"

He shrugged. "I'm fine," he said. "Really. But it's going to take a while, and I can't—I can't miss more school days."

"Okay," Lenalee said. "Okay, then."

School had been over for about an hour, so it was relatively quiet as Allen walked over to the field. He went around the entire field, trying to find the best view of the entire area. Taking out his camera, he got a shot of the dirt track, and then at the unruly grass on the field. There were arguments as to whether or not the school should pay for a rubber track, and put in fake grass.

He went up on the bleachers and sat down, looking over the field.

And, on a sudden whim, he took out the audio recorder and started a new record.

_Beep._

Allen let his eyes shift from the field to the sky, and he sighed quietly. "All right, you got me." He stayed silent for a minute longer, and then began to speak. "Did you know," he said, leaning back on the bleachers, "that I didn't want to be a journalist because I was scared of what I would have to write about? You read it in the newspapers every day—murders, rapes, disappearances, all of that.

"But it's fun. It's really fun. I thought it would just be more prom stuff and sports and budget cuts. I didn't think I would have to—"

He stopped, and took a deep breath. Waited.

"I didn't think I would have to write about one of us dying," he said softly. "It's in the news, about how high school kids commit suicide or get cancer, that kind of news. But you never think that it will happen to you. I didn't think it would happen, not to someone I knew and cared about. It makes it more personal. It makes me wonder about the other people who have been in my situation."

He held up his camera, and took a picture of himself, making sure to keep the flash off. Checking the picture, Allen examined his face; the pale skin, the pale hair, the eyes that were darkened by the shadow on his face.

"I feel like I look different," he said to the recorder. "Something's changed. Like something changed in my world, and now I'm out of the loop."

And then Allen shifted his voice. He was no longer talking to the recorder, but to someone else.

"You got a whole spread," he said, lips quirking despite himself. "You have no idea what kind of bullshit people said after you died. Before, you were this bloody scary dude. Everyone probably thought that you were plotting to kill them in their sleep, but they were also thinking at the same time that you were...good-looking.

"Yeah. The media ate it all up. You were this good-looking kid that made everyone feel sorry for you, because you had everything going for you. They were saying such nice stuff, like how you were actually pretty shy but never harmed people, really. Bullshit.

Allen picked up the camera and, by instinct, flicked through the past photos he had taken. He skipped the ones he took for the newspaper, stopping only to stare at the ones that had a scowling, Japanese senior. He looked perfectly healthy and alive, as if nothing could bring him down from his permanently grumpy state of being.

Now Allen knew better.

_Why didn't you tell me?_

"...What am I supposed to do _now, _Kanda?"

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**A/N:** There's really no excuse. I'm in a "MUST WRITE YULLEN ANGST" mood, for some reason. Several of you guys have asked if I was going through some tough times, but sadly, I can't use that as an excuse because life is pretty damn fine right now.

...However. I'm still writing sad stories. I don't know why. It's strangely perplexing.

Anyway, I've been starting a lot of stories (not DGM, sorry!), which is horrible considering I'm probably the slowest writer in the world, so that's been taking up a lot of my time. However, I will still continue to update about every two weeks, never fear.

Still, reviews are appreciated, as always. You guys make my day.


	50. Whiskered 1

**Title:** Whiskered (Part One)

**Genre:** Friendship/Humor

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** In which the black housecat (sort of) makes friends with a white stray.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, not even this plot, no doubt.

**Notes:** Cats are the most wonderful creatures in the world. Just saying.

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_they walk in and out of your lives_

_leaving paw prints behind_

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Kanda sniffed the grass dourly, unsatisfied. But he opened his mouth anyway and ripped some up with his teeth, chewing grumpily. His digestion hadn't improved in the last several days, which was the only reason why he would even touch grass. His owner, Lenalee, watched him from the window with gentle dark eyes, and he resisted the urge to sniff and turn his tail on her. She deserved better than that, even if she was just another useless human—but perhaps a bit less useless than most.

He yawned to himself, tongue curling inside his mouth, and decided that he had had enough grass-eating for the week.

The ground was soft and yielding as he carefully picked his way to the bottom of the fence that separated Lenalee's house from the neighbor's. Unsheathing his claws, he jumped and climbed up the fence until he sat on top, where he curled his tail around himself and began to wash his face like any self-respecting cat.

A little red robin suddenly fluttered onto a tree nearby, landing on the branches. It hopped from branch to branch, until finally it was face-to-face with Kanda. Kanda eyed it for a moment, paw frozen in the act of rubbing his cheek.

Then the robin spoke. "Haven't seen you in a while, Kanda."

Kanda snorted, and then deliberately turned his back on the robin. He wasn't one for associating with lower animals, especially prey. Especially _this _prey. "You were the one who went down south for the winter," he said, adding a muttered "couldn't have stayed there long enough either". The robin cocked its head, and Kanda continued, "I thought I told you not to come here anymore, or else I wouldn't hesitate in counting you as my prey."

"You always say that," the robin smirked, or would have smirked if robins could.

Kanda let his tail twitch, making sure that the robin noticed. "Lavi, you're a moron and an idiot if you think that I won't hunt you down." He flattened an ear back. "And you're intruding on my territory. Keeping staying here and I'll rip your wings off."

Lavi flapped his wings nonchalantly. "You cats need to come up with better insults. You always say that you're going to rip my wings off—"

"Don't think I won't," came the snarl.

"Okay, okay..." Lavi pecked the branch he was standing on to make a point. "But if I were you, I wouldn't worry about me intruding on your territory."

The black cat stiffened, and then immediately sniffed the air. "There's a cat coming?" he asked suspiciously.

"Mhm." Lavi preened himself for a moment. "The kind you hate, too."

"A stray," Kanda hissed.

The robin turned his head slowly. "He doesn't seem like the bad sort, though."

Kanda opened his mouth so that he could bare his sharp teeth. "Get out of here before I eat you for lunch," he hissed, arching his back and digging his claws into the fence he was sitting on. "I've got business to take care of, and I always get hungry afterwards."

The robin didn't need to be told twice, and Lavi soon flew off in search of friendlier backyards. Kanda made his way along the fence, and then leaped down smoothly on an old tree house that Lenalee used to play in when she was younger with her older brother. He padded down the stairs and onto the ground, and sat down and waited.

Strays had a certain scent about them, like the smell of ruffian in its essence. Kanda's nose sniffed once, twice, and he growled low in his throat and his tail puffed itself up as he tried to make himself look bigger.

Soon, a white cat slowly walked along the fence, crouched and eyes darting about nervously. The stray had a dirt-streaked coat, and the appearance of the underfed. It had brilliant blue eyes that looked gray when its head turned at a certain angle, and its ears were pointed and alert.

Kanda hissed loud enough for the white cat to hear. The white cat froze, and then its eyes darted at him. They stared at each other suspiciously.

Kanda could see that the white cat was holding its left paw closer to its chest, as if it were injured. The fur on his tail lowered again; clearly this stray wouldn't pose much of a threat. Still, he kept his gaze trained on the other cat as he crept closer and closer.

The white cat's face was scarred, as if it had been abused or beaten. It said, in a trembling voice, "I'll leave. I'll leave. I'll leave right now, but don't—" It made a show of backing up.

"How did you get up here with a paw like that?" Kanda asked, lowering his guard somewhat. He climbed up the fence and sat down again, making sure to keep a good distance between the two of them.

The white cat lowered its head, submissive.

"No answer, huh?" The house cat shook his head. "Idiot. Your injury probably got worse." He let his ear flick. "My idiot owner would help you if you went and scratched her door like some helpless little kitten. I don't fight scrawny brats like you."

Carefully, the white cat sat down, still keeping its paw close to its body. "I'm Allen," he said, eyes still wary as if waiting for Kanda to suddenly spring on him with bared teeth and claws.

With a snort, Kanda flicked his tail. "Kanda."

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**A/N: **Huh. Uh. No Yullen this time. Well. I honestly don't have much to say, besides the fact that I'm not sure if cats actually care about fighting other injured cats. The cats I have kind of just hiss and snarl and flatten their ears. And they bat each other with their paws, and bite, and... Okay, moving on.

I might write more to this. It really depends.

Reviews are appreciated.


	51. Whiskered 2

**Title:** Whiskered (Part Two)

**Genre:** Family/Friendship

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** The white stray just wouldn't stop following Kanda.

**Disclaimer:** I DON'T HAVE TIME TO DRAW MANGA EVERY DAY, PEOPLE.

**Notes:** ...Okay, so I know that I always say that I'll consider writing sequels to some of my chapters, and I almost never do. But these boys are so cute as cats...

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_tickle me softly with your kitty love_

_leave me warm and dry in your furry heart_

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The white stray just wouldn't stop following Kanda.

Granted, the stray didn't step into Kanda's personal space, and kept a somewhat cautious stance as if he was expecting the black cat to turn around and lunge at him with outstretched claws. The white cat—Allen, he had said—had indeed timidly gone to the front door to meow like a pitiful beggar. To Kanda's complete and utter boredom, Lenalee had done exactly what he had expected. She had taken in the stray and then fed him, but Allen didn't seem to consider Lenalee his owner.

So Allen was still a stray to Kanda.

Never mind that Lenalee had already scheduled an appointment to the vet's so that she could get Allen properly examined. Never mind that she had gotten him a red collar that he had refused with frightened blue eyes and a swipe of his paws. Never mind that she had taken to calling him "Prince" because she thought that he was beautiful and stately when clean.

Never mind any of that, because it was evident even to Kanda that Allen most definitely had owners before, but he had not been fortunate enough to have been owned by nice ones. It was evident in the skittish way he darted around Lenalee in the house and constantly folded his ears back like a fearful little mouse.

Allen's coat was soft and white again, but a long scar remained on his face, and there was always a slight limp that came from his injured left paw. That didn't seem to stop him from sticking to Kanda as the black cat walked down the hallway, his claws making soft clicking noises on the wooden floor.

Kanda peered over his shoulder, and then tossed his head haughtily. "Stop following me," he said.

The white cat flicked his ears as if mildly agitated, but he continued walking.

Kanda twitched his tail, and then stalked into the living room. Leaping onto a couch, he carefully folded his legs beneath him and then finally settled down. His tail curled protectively around him, and he stared down at Allen who sat meekly on the floor.

"Go follow my owner around," Kanda commanded.

Allen blinked, and then laid down on his stomach, letting his head rest on his paws.

"You're being annoying."

A white ear flicked again, but Allen kept looking at Kanda with those ridiculously big blue eyes. Kanda curled his tongue back, and then absently raised a paw to lick it gently. He rubbed his face and ears for a moment, thinking quietly as he preoccupied himself with the familiar task. When he was satisfied that his face was clean, he glanced back at Allen.

"Lenalee wouldn't hurt you."

It was as much of a question as it was a statement.

Slowly, Allen nodded. "I know she wouldn't," he said, voice small and muffled. "But..."

Kanda waited. "But?" he asked after a full minute passed.

"I know, but I don't...I don't think I'll ever be able to really believe it." Allen hid his face in his pale fur. His ears were flattened against his head, and he trembled lightly. "I'm just so—I'm just so scared, and every time she comes near me, I'm afraid that she won't—she won't want me anymore and that she'll hit me or—"

The black cat had had enough of Allen's fears. Getting up to his feet, he crouched down, muscles tensed, and then made an almighty leap at the white cat. He landed on Allen's back, and he instinctively unsheathed his claws to get a better grip.

Allen yelped, and soon they were rolling around on the carpet. Kanda could hear himself snarling, teeth flashing in the sunlight from the window. Allen tried to push Kanda off first, but when the black cat hissed lowly and snapped at Allen's neck, the stray snapped back. There was hissing and yowling that soon drew Lenalee to the living room, and she immediately yelled, "Stop it, both of you!"

And suddenly, Kanda relaxed.

When Allen realized that the house cat had stopped fighting him and that Lenalee was present, he sprang to his feet and darted toward the corner of the living room, where he sat and curled himself into a ball, licking the shallow scratches he had received.

Lenalee had immediately separated the two of them, confining Kanda to the guest room. He sat quietly until he was let out again an hour or so later. Allen was still in the living room, huddled in the corner with Lenalee sitting on an armchair and watching him with concerned eyes.

When she finally left the room to make lunch (not before eyeballing Kanda and sternly reminding him that he was to treat the other cat nicely), Kanda padded to Allen and then sat, keeping a respectable distance between the two of them.

"You're an idiot," he informed Allen.

Allen's back stiffened. He said to the wall, "Why did you do that?" He sounded angry and somewhat shaken.

Kanda stretched his arms in front of him. "Lenalee didn't do anything to you, right?"

"I—what?" Allen turned his head, blue eyes confused.

"She didn't do anything to you, even though you were fighting me."

"_You _started it!"

Kanda snorted. "And she didn't do anything to me either."

Allen fell silent at that. His tail swished thoughtfully on the carpet, and a heart beat later, he turned around to face Kanda. His whiskers shifted in the air as his face turned this way and that, checking the room.

And he said, "She won't do anything?"

And Kanda nodded.

It was a few minutes later when Lenalee looked up from the stir fry she was making only to see both of her cats walking into the kitchen, with Kanda leading and Allen trailing behind. Kanda immediately bent his head to eat his cat food, but Allen stared at her for a while longer before he carefully approached her and tentatively rubbed her leg with his cheek.

She smiled. It was a start.

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**A/N: **I do think that there will be more to this... However, this universe/series/cat fic will have no romantic Yullen because the thought of two male cats is just...weird. No offense.

Happy Valentine's Day, folks...or in my case, Singles Awareness Day. VIVA LA BACHELORETTE.

Reviews are appreciated, as always.

**The Only Princess: **...Well, there's more lack of Yullen. BUT, BUT, THEY WERE SO CUTE, I COUDLN'T RESIST. **jingletoes: **Here's another part! Thanks for reviewing! **Somebody:** And here be more kitty!DGM for you.


	52. Conversation 5

**Title:** Conversation 5

**Genre:** Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "And I think you like being friends with me too."

**Disclaimer:** Own, I don't.

**Notes:** Check my bottom notes later. Important stuff.

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_listen to me when i say_

_won't you consider me?_

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"So, Kanda."

"Hn."

"Um. So."

"What is it, sprout?"

"Well—"

"I'm studying for this motherfucking test I forgot about, so hurry up."

"Ah. Maybe I should tell you later. Don't want to bother you or anything."

"Idiot. You already have, so just tell me."

"Erk. Okay. Okay."

"Well?"

"...This wasn't exactly how I planned it, but—"

"_Fuck!_"

"Huh?"

"Stupid – fucking – calculation – mistake."

"Kanda, if you erase any harder, your paper's going to rip—see, what did I tell you?"

"_Die._"

"...Were you talking to your paper or me?"

"Fuck. I have to redo this shit over again, and fuck, there's only ten fucking minutes left before the stupid librarian kicks us out—"

"Kanda, your test is tomorrow. You have lots of time to finish studying at home."

"Whatever. What were you saying?"

"Oh. Yes. About that."

"..."

"...I...Kanda, you know that I don't hate you, right? I even like you. Sometimes."

"Don't be such a sap. You're even worse than Lavi, you fucking girl."

"I was just _saying_. But we're—friends, right?"

"I don't have friends."

"You talk to me, don't you? Even if it's to have the last word. And we hang out, kind of like now. And you always give me those rice crackers that your dad packs for you. That's what friends do."

"Fucking sap."

"I—like being friends with you."

"Tough shit. I don't."

"..."

"..."

"...I do. I really do. And I think you like being friends with me too."

"Che."

"It's just—what I'm getting at is—maybe I would like something...more."

"What, you want my soba noodles too? Greedy brat."

"No, I'm not talking about food."

"Then what? Spit it out, sprout."

"...Never mind. I'll tell you some other time."

"You don't leave shit like that hanging. Tell me now."

"Whoa, Kanda, you don't punch your friends for not telling you stuff. Calm down."

"_Tell me._"

"...I. I like you."

"You already said that."

"That's not what I meant—oh, forget it. I'm leaving."

"You can't just—oi. Sprout. Sprout, get your fucking ass back here right now. We're not done. Sprout? _Sprout!_"

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**A/N: **Not as funny as I wanted it to be. Oh well, I like it well enough.

Anyway, guys, just letting you know that I'm taking March off. No updates for another a month. I have a lot of stuff going on, and there are other individuals stories that have been sitting in my computer for months that I really should get to finishing. That, and Real Life. Oh, RL, how I despise thee.

Well, reviews are appreciated.


	53. Facets: Kanda

**Title:** Facets (Kanda)

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Because it's so easy to forget that one can move on.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own nothing. (Ha. Double negatives.)

**Notes:** ...Hey. Heyheyhey. Remember Delusions? Chapter Fifteen? Cough. Yeah. Keep that in mind. Really long author's note down below

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_it takes time to heal_

_but it takes even more time to forget_

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Snapping up the collar of his coat, Kanda firmly tucked the royal blue scarf around his neck. His breath came out in small white wisps. Cursing softly to himself, he stuffed his too-cold hands into his pockets. The knuckles of his fingers brushed against a small scrap of paper that he usually kept on his person. The folds were worn and well-creased, and the words were faded. Still, he curled his hand around the note absently by force of habit.

The bus stop was deserted. Kanda glanced at the bench and considered sitting down, but the idea of even approaching the cold metal seat forced him to remain standing, occasionally shifting from foot to foot to spark warmth in his body. The air was still and the sky was cloudy; Kanda was completely alone.

Until a voice, clear and amused, said, "Well, you look warm."

Kanda didn't move for a moment. He exhaled softly, breath disappearing in the morning fog. He hadn't even heard the footsteps that had sneaked up on him.

The voice continued. "I've forgotten how cold it gets during the winter."

"You hated the cold."

"Not true."

"Liar. You've always hated it." Pause. "It has your damn birthday and everything."

"You remembered."

"Hard to forget, idiot."

A shift in the fog, and a young man in a pure white pea coat stood easily next to Kanda. Tugging at the gray and white striped scarf he had around his neck, the man stepped closer. He brushed shoulders briefly with the Japanese man, and Kanda jerked a bit. The other man was taller than he had remembered.

Kanda hated change, change that he couldn't control. He hated not having control period, and already he had to resist the urge to clam up and say nothing.

The man said, "Maybe you have a point. I've only been to warm places."

_'Since you left,' _Kanda thought, scowling to himself. Instead, he answered, "Where?"

"I went to India first. Nostalgic place, that. Still hot, still messy."

_India. _Which meant that the man had traveled with Cross Marian, his former guardian. Kanda knew that the other man wouldn't have gone to India without some kind of incentive, and that incentive was usually Cross and his love for countries that let him get away with all sorts of scams.

"How long did you stay there?"

The other man arched his eyebrows, but replied, "Only for a few months. I've never really liked India. Too many memories, and I wanted to go somewhere new for a change of pace."

"So where next?"

"States. I thought I would visit the beaches and see if California is really all that. Nice weather there." The other man patted his pea coat. "Though, I stopped by New York at first for a couple of weeks in the winter, and I even celebrated the new year there. I even went to Times Square and watched the ball drop." He laughed softly, tipping his head back.

There was a momentary silence.

Kanda sighed. "Why the fuck did you have to come back?" he asked, pressing the back of his hand to his eyes.

The man didn't answer for a moment. "You know," he said, "they liked my accent in the states, even though I don't really use, well, British phrases anymore. Especially the girls—they thought I sounded sophisticated." He looked over at Kanda. "You always said that I sounded like a stuck-up actor from one of those movies we watched together."

The fog was lifting up, but Kanda shivered in his coat. It was so quiet besides the sound of the other man's voice. It felt as if they were meeting again in purgatory, in another place that couldn't be reached by anyone else.

_So...talk to him, you fool._

The other man said, "I had to get away from you, Kanda. It wasn't...it wasn't good."

"_What _wasn't good?" Kanda snapped.

"We had problems."

"Like your tendency to _run away _without saying a damn thing."

"I admit that. But it's more than just that. It's not even about Alma anymore."

"You were jealous."

"I was. And I wasn't talking to you about it. But you weren't saying anything either."

Kanda shook his head, impatient. "Sprout," he said, and the other man flinched. The Japanese man faltered at that, but he couldn't stop himself. "Sprout, you know what I'm like. I'm not—I'm a—" Swallowing thickly, he turned to look at the other man. "I'm not good with this. I don't know how to—_Allen._"

Allen Walker only stared at Kanda with inscrutable silver eyes. Then he laughed. It was a quick, sharp noise. "You, you still think you care about me. You think you do, at least."

"I never said—"

"But that's how you really feel, don't you?" Allen laughed again, but it was a fainter laugh. "You've gotten sentimental, Kanda. I've never been able to read you this easily before. You're practically wearing your emotions on your sleeve." He quieted, and then extended a glove hand, keeping it only mere inches away from Kanda's face. His voice became softer, more wistful. "You've changed. And it makes me...feel a bit sad."

"Because you don't give a shit about me now?"

"I've had a lot of time to think about that—"

"Five fucking _years—_"

Allen closed his eyes and lifted both of his arms in front of him. He bent his elbows and made circles with his hands, turning them over each other in slow, careful motions. He said, "When I left you, I didn't know what to do with myself." He dropped his arms. "And I don't know why I came back."

"Those aren't answers."

"They aren't supposed to be."

Kanda glared half-heartedly at Allen, who only smiled back. "You're a bit of a shit, aren't you?"

"I always have been. You just didn't know that about me. Not until I ran away."

"You don't even care about that anymore."

Allen kept smiling. "You're not the only one who changed," he said.

They stood together, two men who were nearly of the same height. Kanda felt the slight space between the two of them; it was an ache in his side, a twinge in his chest. But five years was a long time, and Allen had been right. Both of them had changed, and it wasn't the same anymore. Allen, Allen who always smiled at him, Allen who was an idiot who cared too much—

And Kanda thought that maybe he didn't know Allen Walker at all, had never known him from the very beginning.

"I'll still be around for a while," Allen said in a carefully disinterested tone.

Kanda didn't know how to respond.

"When you've got time away from Alma, you should come see me. So we can finish this talk."

"How did you know Alma was—?"

Allen's eyes were tired. "Five years is a long time," was all he said.

Kanda Yuu didn't know what to do. So instead, he stood frozen to the spot, blue scarf swinging gently in front of him as Allen Walker nodded at him once and then walked away, shoes making soft thumps on the concrete sidewalk. It was only after he couldn't see the white pea coat anymore that Kanda called out, "Allen!"

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry._

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**A/N: **So as you may have guessed already, this is the not!sequel to Delusions (Chapter Fifteen). This can kind of stand alone, I suppose, although this is only half of the story. The next part will focus more on Allen's perspective.

I just realized that I like writing dramatic chapters...huh. I wonder if I should lay off on the romance for a while.

Anyway! Thanks to all of you who stuck around waiting for me for an entire month. I actually didn't get a lot done (no one but myself to blame), but I will be returning to my twice-a-month updating schedule.

Reviews are appreciated, as usual!

And I must apologize to the anonymous reviews. I keep on forgetting to reply to you guys. Anyway, **Reviewer at 10/8pm: **Assuming that you two are the same person, I maintain that Kanda _is _dense, and it's easy to poke fun at him for that. **Stargazer: **Thanks for reviewing! **Shimizu Hikaru: **There will probably be another part to Whiskered...most likely. **The Only Princess: **If I had my way, I would spend the rest of my life glued to my computer...but alas, that cannot be. **jingletoes: **The best stories leave us speech. XD

PS, if you're having trouble updating your stories:

**"All you needed to do is to change the word "properties" in the URL of the story editor to "content." So click on your fic like you normally would to add a chapter and while on the error page just change that word and POOF! It works!"**

Which I got from **Corrosive Moon **via **Wynja **via **Diagonfloo. ** has been having issues apparently. Spread the word!


	54. Facets: Alma

**Title:** Facets (Alma)

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Alma contemplates Kanda and life, the two being more interchangeable than he would like.

**Disclaimer:** Alma wouldn't even be in the picture if I owned DGM...no offense to him.

**Notes:** So I said there would be two parts to Facets. I lied.

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_what i can give is little_

_what you want from me is even less_

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Alma loved Kanda. It was a fact that he had always known, ever since he was little. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't loved Kanda, hadn't loved the prickly Japanese boy with soft long hair and fierce dark eyes. Kanda Yuu, Kanda Yuu, Kanda, Kanda, _Kanda... _His thoughts were continuously filled with Kanda, and Kanda alone. There had only ever been the two of them, alone and isolated in the orphanage. Alma had made the mistake of angering one of the bigger kids and was thus avoided by everyone else who didn't dare to cross the bully. Kanda, on the other hand, hated the other children and kept to himself. For that reason, Alma clung to him from the very beginning, crying whenever the other boy hit or even glared at him.

But he refused to let go. In fact, he would hit Kanda back and yell at him even as tears streamed down his face. And, eventually, Kanda stopped trying to make him let go.

In the end, they only had each other. Other kids were too afraid to approach Kanda. And for Alma, he knew that Kanda had shunned him because Kanda shunned everyone. It wasn't anything personal, and Alma understood that all too well because...because Kanda was Kanda. But he wanted to be the one person that Kanda wouldn't turn away from. He wanted Kanda to like him, to need him too. He loved Kanda, and he wanted Kanda to love him. He hadn't thought at the time that it was such a big thing to ask for.

So he pulled Kanda out to the small garden that the orphans were allowed to play in, escaping the watchful eye of Edgar, one of the nicer employees at the orphanage. It was right next to the lotus flowers in the pond that he said to Kanda, "Don't leave me alone."

"No," Kanda said. He was eleven, and so was Alma.

"Why not?" Alma grasped his sleeve, tugging at it. His eyes grew watery despite himself. "Aren't we friends? I don't—I don't want to be alone again. I only need Yuu. If I have Yuu, then I don't need anyone else even if they like them."

Kanda looked away. His eyes glittered, and Alma felt afraid that he couldn't read the expression on Kanda's face.

He said, desperately, "Yuu. Yuu. _Yuu._"

"What."

Alma was crying. His eyes would be swollen again, red and puffy, and it was always a sensation that he never got used to. He thought that he could hear Edgar calling for them in his gentle but panicked voice. He tugged at Kanda's sleeve again, but the Japanese boy remained unmoved.

"Yuu," he sobbed. "Yuu, don't make friends that you'll like more than me. Don't like any girls. Don't go out with any of them. Don't hug them or smile at them. Don't k-kiss them."

Finally, Kanda gazed at Alma. His voice was quiet, subdued even. "I won't."

"R-really?" Alma sniffed hard. "Yuu, I always want to—I always want to be with you. Together, always. Yuu, can't you promise me?"

Kanda shook his head and pulled his arm free from Alma's grasp. "No."

"Yuu—"

Edgar's voice grew louder and Kanda stepped away from his best friend, his only friend. "I gotta go," he said, and a mask came over his face and his eyes became cold once more. "Alma." With that last word, he ran away from the garden, from the pond with the lotus flowers, to Edgar.

Kanda was adopted that day by a kindly old man.

It was a long twelve years later before he would see Kanda again. Or, to be more specific, he heard of Kanda before he actually saw him.

It was at a grocery store. Alma remembered standing in an aisle, scanning the line of tomato sauce cans in front of him. He was going to make pasta for dinner, but he always had trouble with picking the sauce. There were too many kinds—meat sauce, tomato sauce, turkey sausage and so much more. He stood, dazed and bemused.

Someone bumped into him as they passed by. "Oh, sorry," the stranger said.

"It's okay," Alma answered. He almost flashed a smile at the stranger, but he could only stop and stare at the stranger who had bright silver eyes and a shock of white hair. The bizarre appearance was completed by the fact that despite the summer heat, the stranger was wearing gloves.

The stranger nodded at him politely before making his way down the aisle. Alma stared after him. _'A beautiful stranger,' _he thought, flushing slightly.

Then he noticed that the stranger had been on the phone, and was now resuming his conversation. Alma shrugged and was about to turn back to the pasta sauces when he heard, "—Kanda, no, I won't buy—" The stranger then turned to another aisle and Alma could no longer hear the softly accented words, but he had heard enough.

He only dimly remembered, at that point, following the exotic stranger to his car and then to his home. He had wanted to ask, rather casually, "Do you know a Kanda Yuu?", but something held him back, something instinctive and dark that reared from the back of his mind. So instead, he followed the stranger like some stalker and as he hid in the bushes from the house opposite to the stranger's, he felt his jaw relax and fall when he saw a familiar but older face open the door and embrace the white-haired stranger.

It was his Yuu, his Yuu all over again. It was his Yuu who was hugging the beautiful stranger, and Alma suddenly wondered why his chest felt so light and so heavy at the same time in such a paradoxical manner.

He couldn't have left his former best friend alone after that. He wouldn't, although he thought later that perhaps he should have. Kanda had already moved on from that childish friendship, from those days at the orphanage when neither of them really had anything to live for besides each other. Kanda had moved on, and that beautiful person was clearly someone special to him. But again, that dark part of himself told him that Kanda had promised, hadn't he, that he wouldn't like anyone more than he liked Alma, that he had hugged and probably kissed someone and therefore _broke his promise._

_'But it's not a girl.'_

_'But he broke our promise.'_

_'But he didn't.'_

_'But he did.'_

And it was only a few days later that Alma found himself knocking on Kanda's door and Kanda, Kanda, _don't you remember me? I grew up, you see. I grew up, I was adopted too, and I live alone now. I'm so, so lonely because there was no one else for me, Yuu. I told you before, didn't I, that I didn't need anyone else because I had you. But I didn't have you, but I will now._

The beautiful stranger was called Allen Walker, and he smiled at Alma so sweetly that Alma fell a little bit in love with Allen Walker. He thought that perhaps everyone who met Allen fell a little bit in love with him, and he forgave Yuu for loving Allen—but only a little bit.

Kanda was different in so many ways. He was still rough around the edges, still a bit brusque and distant. But, oh, he was so much more relaxed, as if a great burden had been lifted off of his shoulders. He had been a surly kid, and now he smiled and laughed and even joked around with Alma, even if he was still sarcastic and just a bit callous. Alma thought, _'This is Yuu when he is happy. This is Yuu when he is in love.'_

And he knew, then, that he hadn't been replaced at all. Instead, Kanda had found someone who could finally complete him in a way that Alma had never been able to.

It was such a heavy thought that Alma wished that he had never met Allen Walker, that he had gone without seeing Kanda for the rest of his life. But he would look at Allen who would smile back benignly, and he would feel so happy and sad at the same time that he wanted to cry. Except he didn't because as time went on, as he continued to intrude on Kanda and Allen's intertwined life, Allen looked as though _he _would cry.

Alma wasn't stupid. He realized that he was sticking unnecessarily close to Kanda, that he acted far too familiar around the Japanese man. But Kanda, but Kanda _let him. _Kanda let Alma come so much closer than he had ever let Alma back when they were still in the orphanage. Whenever Alma demanded that his best friend go out with him and not bring Allen along, Kanda would comply if only because both of them knew that Kanda always went back to Allen, no matter what petty demands Alma threw at him. It was because of Allen Walker, Allen who was so still kind to Alma despite the growing blankness in his eyes and Allen, Allen, _hey, why are you so sad? Don't look like that, please don't look like that. Because Yuu and I—because Yuu and I—_

"...Remember the promise we made as kids?"

They stood right outside of Kanda's house. Kanda didn't say anything. Instead, he looked at the house, waiting for Alma to finish so that he could go inside.

Kanda had other people in his lives anymore, the elusive Lavi and Lenalee who supposedly dropped by now and then, Tiedoll his adoptive father who still called, older brother Marie who wasn't bonded to Kanda by blood. So many people that Alma didn't know, and all of a sudden, he pondered that he had been acting like a child all this time. _'Not mine, not mine.'_

Right at that moment, when Alma had been ready to leave, Allen went away.

He left a letter, Kanda said. He ran away, Kanda said. He left me, Kanda said.

_But he'll come back._

...Right?

Kanda would sit on the couch, but he never stayed still for long. He would fidget, or he would change his position, or he would get up and walk around agitatedly. He never showed Alma the letter, but Alma could guess, or almost guess, the contents. And he wondered if maybe he should stop showing up at Kanda's house, that maybe he should leave because there was an emptiness that was once occupied by Allen Walker, beautiful Allen Walker, and Alma knew that Kanda wasn't in a good place right now. So he didn't quite dare to be alone with Kanda for too long, didn't ask him to eat out sometimes, didn't even mention Allen if he didn't need to.

A week turned into two, which then turned into a month. A redhead stopped by occasionally; he was Lavi, but the moment he took one look at Kanda's face, he had shaken his head and told Kanda to call him when he was ready to talk. Alma continued to visit, not liking the look in Kanda's eyes, but how he could leave Kanda after everything that had happened? He knew it was his fault, knew it so keenly that he felt as if guilt and regret would swallow him up and refuse to spit him back out.

But before his guilt could force him to leave for good, Kanda kissed him.

It had been the fifty-first night after Allen had disappeared, and Kanda had been watching a movie when Alma came to check on him. His face fell when he saw the Japanese man sitting by himself, head flung back stubbornly as he tried to feign nonchalance. And this was when Alma snapped, when he turned off the TV and stood in front of Kanda so that the other man couldn't ignore him.

"Kanda," he said—he had stopped calling him Yuu a week or so after Allen had left. "Kanda, stop this."

Kanda wouldn't look at him. Alma felt the faintest sense of deja vu, but continued. "Why won't you go after Allen? You're miserable, Kanda. You're useless like this. And I can't stand this anymore." He huffed angrily. "Allen would hate Kanda right now."

"No one asked you to fucking take care of me," Kanda suddenly snapped.

Alma wavered.

And Kanda turned his face at Alma and made a rough gesture. "Come here," he said, and Alma obeyed because he had no right to refuse.

But—but—

Kanda kissed him. His lips were dry. He hadn't been taking care of himself, and Alma was so shocked that he made no attempt to move as Kanda tugged him even further down and pried his mouth open. It was only when he felt a slick heat trace his bottom lip that Alma finally pulled himself out of Kanda's grasp, stumbling backward.

"Kanda," he gasped, eyes wide. "Kanda, why?"

"Isn't this what you always wanted?" Kanda answered, leaning back on the sofa now. He was carelessly beautiful, beautiful in a way that was untouchable, like a beautiful wild cat.

He was beautiful in a different way from Allen, and it was with the image of the smiling British man that Alma replied steadily, "Not anymore." And his own words shocked him when they came out of his mouth because he hadn't known, not exactly, that he had wanted Kanda that way.

"Don't lie to me, Alma," Kanda growled instead. "You're happy, aren't you? Happy that he's gone."

"How can you say that?" He took a step away from Kanda, shaking. "I loved both of you, both of you together."

Alma stopped and took a deep breath, still shocked because it was true. He had fallen in love with the two of them as a couple, so in love that he couldn't take the last step to confess to Kanda because he didn't love only Kanda anymore, not the same kind of love.

The Japanese man made an angry noise in his throat. "Shut up, Alma," he said, and he dragged Alma to the bedroom, and so shocked was Alma that he didn't fight back, wouldn't fight back, and he was weak enough to profess that he was selfish in that even though he loved both Kanda and Allen, he had loved Kanda _first._

That night, he gave Kanda all he could, but that wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

And later, he laid on the bed, exhausted and sad, and said softly, "Allen."

He felt his heart break all over again.

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**A/N: **I feel a bit like a bastard for writing this, even though I had a lot of fun with the drama. Maybe I went a little bit over the top and I should probably build a bomb shelter because, um, I kind of write Kanda/Alma even though I didn't really? And wow, why am I writing so much angst? Because let me tell you now, I don't feel angsty. In fact, I don't even have a love life to feel angsty over, but this. Eh. Well.

Oh yeah, and I might as well establish the fact that I'm a liar. I said there would be two parts to Facet, and I lied. There will now at least be there parts: Kanda, Alma, and Allen. There might be more, I don't know. It'll depend on my mood, I suppose.

So here's a shout-out to all of my reviewers: Thank you so much for sticking with Bleached Ink even though I'm a lazy bastard of a Yullen writer and for some reason, I'm on an angst-fic streak. I owe you all about a hundred fluffy Yullen ficlets.

Reviews are appreciated, as always.

**Travel at 7pm: **Such an imbecile. And now he's even more of one. **The Only Princess: **...I swear, I'll make it up and write something happy for once, but for now, please bear with the angst.


	55. Facets: Allen

**Title:** Facets (Allen)

**Genre:** Drama/Angst

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Flashes of the five years Allen was separated from Kanda.

**Disclaimer:** I'm still trying to scrape enough money to hire assassins who can then eliminate Hoshino and leave DGM owner-less and vulnerable. I make no promises.

**Notes:** This is kind of Allen-centric. Not as much Kanda as I thought there would be.

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_if i could turn back time_

_maybe you'd still be mine_

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Five years was a long time.

Allen knew that he had changed in five years, but he wasn't exactly sure of every single little change. Five years was a long time; any change that had occurred happened gradually as many things do. But there was one aspect about him that he knew for certain. How it had changed, how it hadn't—he knew it all too well.

He was a better liar now. He hadn't been a bad liar before, but there were minute details that often gave him away to the experienced. A twitch here, a flicker of the eye there. But five years was long enough to eradicate such habits. He had dabbled in plenty of funny business to the point that he could not afford to have any movements, not even the smallest batting of the eyelid, give him away.

He hadn't gone to India first; in fact, he hadn't gone to India at all. Too many people wanted a suspicious red-haired man with an apprentice tagging along like a sore thumb. So instead, he managed to persuade Cross to stop by China.

"I should brush up on my Mandarin," Allen had wheedled.

Cross Marian rolled his eyes and placed a new cigarette between his lips. "Just this once," was his answer, and he smacked the back of his foster son's head for good measure.

It was easy enough to find the restaurant. 陳麵條, he read carefully off the sign, before stepping in. The hood of his jacket was pulled carefully and deliberately over his head, hiding his snowy-white hair and most of his features. It was busting with the Asian folk, with practically every table occupied. Elderly woman who had their short gray curls put up talked in severe Chinese. Young men sipped their tea cautiously and spoke in lowered voices (Allen was quick to glance over them as their Oriental faces and dark hair reminded him of someone he didn't want to remember at the moment). And a waitress with bright eyes and dark hair, who was rushing by with a tray of tea cups, stopped and stared at Allen.

He smiled, lifted a hand. "小姐," he said. His eyes flickered meanfully toward the back of the room.

She looked him up and down, and then gestured pointedly at his eye. He nodded twice, and she blinked at him before turning on her heel and quickly moving to the back of the restaurant. Allen followed casually, his hands in his pockets, and ignored the stares of the native people as they examined his hood and shadowed face.

They passed the kitchen, which was sweltering and noisy, and went out through the back door. The waitress crossed the narrow alley that was outside of the restaurant and went to the building across from it. She knocked on the door once, twice, three times.

The door creaked open. The waitress glanced back at Allen and said shortly, "進去," before departing to return to 陳麵條.

The room behind the door was spacious but mostly empty. The walls were dark and wooden, and so was the floor. Sitting on a mat was a young woman. Her legs were crossed and her eyes were closed, but even with the sparse lighting of the room, anyone could see her pale pink hair and the fineness of her white and violet clothing.

"Fou," Allen said, and sat down, folding his legs underneath him.

She opened her eyes. "Walker," she replied, and her tone was wondering. "Why are you here?"

His face tightened. "I'm...thinking of returning to my old life."

Fou frowned and uncrossed her legs. She was a tiny woman, but Allen knew better than to underestimate her. "I thought that you've built a pretty good life for yourself," she said. "A life on the legal side of the law, with your pretty little—"

"Don't."

She drew in a deep breath. "Should I even ask?" Without waiting for an answer, she shrugged and continued, "Well, I suppose this means that you'll be wanting all of your previous contacts. I checked them about a week ago—most of them are still valid, even though you were the one who dropped them first."

Allen didn't respond.

"Walker?" Fou prompted. She sighed loudly. "Okay, I'll bite. What happened to your wife?"

"He's not my wife."

"Oh, so you're the wife?"

"Fou."

"Just...tell me. It'll make you feel better."

"...I left him. I ran away. He had a childhood friend who started visiting again, and I just couldn't take it. They were so close. I didn't want to stay."

"Did he cheat on you?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably not."

She glared at him and sat up straight. "So why the hell did you leave?" she demanded. "Why couldn't you just talk it out like normal people?"

He shook his head agitatedly. "I don't—I don't want to think about it. I didn't come here to get yelled at."

"You think running away will help—?"

"How did you feel when Bak had a thing for Lenalee?"

Fou's eyes flashed. "That's low."

"I know. I'm not here to...I want to get my contacts and then leave. I'm feeling too much right now. It's messing up my head. I need to go somewhere and do something dangerous and stupid, like what I used to do. Can you help me do that?"

She scoffed. "I can, and I will. Help you, that is. Even though I think you're a perfect fool."

Allen was smiling again, and it was a little less painful than before. "I think so too."

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It was outside a seedy club in New York when Allen excused himself from the table in the back room. The other men smirked at him as he collected his earnings and made his way to the door. His gloves were pale in the bad lighting of the room, and he pulled on his coat and his hat for good measure. The muscled thug who guarded the back door glanced him over, grunted, and let him leave while shooting dark looks at Allen's back.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, right next to a sweat-smeared wad of cash. He checked caller ID, and his silver eyes darkened. Flicking his phone open, he held it to his ear and said drolly, "Allen Walker. What business do you have with me?"

"Don't talk to me like that, Allen," Lenalee said, sounding annoyed even over the phone.

He grinned despite himself. "Sorry, sorry. But really, what is it?"

She was quiet. "Well. You haven't called for a while. Lavi worries, you know."

"Lavi always worries," he said cheerfully. "But really, he should worry more about himself. They're thinking of cutting funding for the school system over there, right? And last I heard, no one liked the history teachers at Lavi's school."

"Oh, he's working on it," Lenalee said airily. "And no one likes history teachers, but Lavi's special."

"Of course he is."

There was a brief pause, and Lenalee said forcefully, "So what are you doing right now?"

"Erm," he said as he walked down the sidewalk, ignoring the suspicious stares he was getting with his long coat. A streetlight flickered above his head before completely going out. "The usual. Business is going well, of course. I told you I was in the States, right? I was thinking of going to somewhere warmer—"

"...Allen. Are you ever going to come back?"

He stiffened and promptly tripped over a crack in the pavement. He held the phone tight in his hand and felt the bump on his forehead with the other. With an effort, he sat up and stood, feeling himself underneath the coat for any injuries. "Not for a while," he said. "He hasn't—he hasn't asked about me, has he?"

"Well, no. But that's because he thinks that you'll come back one of these days."

Something tugged at the back of Allen's mind. His fingers twitched around his phone. "Lenalee. What's going on with him?"

"...He's...he's moved in with Alma. The house that you two had—"

"Lenalee," he said, and he felt his heart beat fast, faster, even faster. The phone in his hand was shaking, and he realized that his entire body was quivering nonstop, with anger or frustration he couldn't tell. "Lenalee, I don't want to know. I don't want to know any of this, okay?"

"But—"

He laughed. It was an ugly laugh, and he forced himself to stop. "Do you know that 'alma' means 'soul' in Spanish?"

"Allen."

"Kanda doesn't need me anymore, not when he has his soul."

For a few moments, there was only the sound of static in Allen's ear. Finally, Lenalee said in a soft voice, "You've never been someone to run away before. I wonder when that had changed." She sounded as if she were sad and disappointed; Allen knew better.

"Trying to guilt me into coming back?"

"He's a mess, Allen."

The steady way Lenalee had delivered her words caused him to slump down, leaning against the wall. Allen didn't want to fight anymore. Instead, the old restless feeling had come back, and he itched to go somewhere far, far away. He'd have to book plane tickets.

But he didn't tell Lenalee this. Instead, he said, "I know."

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In Mexico, Allen sat on the steps near a dock. He watched idly as the small children of street vendors approached tourists in hopes of finding customers. Americans with their baseball caps and cameras wandered down the streets, going to this restaurant or that table that advertised a boating trip. The sun was bright on his face, and he tugged the sun hat so that it cast a shadow over his nose and mouth. His clothes were loose and light, and he was just starting to feel hungry.

"_Hola, chico._"

Allen shifted so that he could see a dark-skinned man smile down at him. "Tyki Mikk," he said, arching an eyebrow. "Thought you were in Brazil."

"I may be Portuguese, _chico, _but I can go anywhere I want."

Allen shrugged. "That was what I heard from Rhode. Blame her, not me."

"_Eres cruel,_" Tyki pouted, and he tossed his long, tied-up hair behind him.

"So what job do you have for me this time?"

This time, Tyki's smile was slow and knowing, and Allen immediately tensed. Tyki Mikk was not a man to screw over or even anger, and this smile was one that Allen knew intimately from his earlier years. But his fears were relieved when Tyki said, "I don't have a job offer, _chico, _but I do have some information that you might be interested in."

"What is it?" Allen asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Ah, ah, ah." Golden eyes danced as Tyki backed away from the eager young man. "This information still requires payment."

With an exaggerated eye roll, Allen said, "I know that. I'll wire the money to you right away."

"It's not money I want, _chico._" Tyki paused so that he could see Allen's eyes widen and then narrow in defiance. "All you need to do is to go to a certain place. You should know what to do after I release this information."

"All right, fine."

Bending down so that Allen could hear even a whisper, Tyki murmured, "A certain man by the name of Tiedoll died. He owned an empty house that used to belong to two people who were dear to him, but for different reasons. The ownership has been passed to you, according to his will."

The sun hat trembled. "No," Allen said. "He didn't do that. He didn't."

Tyki threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, Walker," he chuckled. "How would you like to go home after five years?"

Allen stared down at his hands and said nothing.

"Decide soon, _chico._" With a final wink, Tyki joined the fray of tourists and native people, easily blending in with his tanned skin and dark hair. Allen watched him disappear into the crowd. After a minute or two, he also left the docks.

And as he walked back to his hotel room, he imagined that a Japanese man was stalking his every move, like he had for the past five years.

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**A/N: **Er. So there will be one more part. I think. It will be from no one's perspective in particular. Maybe. I mean, technically I could wrap up Facets here because even though Kanda and Allen need to talk, they don't really because they've both kind of moved on and any conversation they will have afterward will be...well. Just sort of a "yeah, we made mistakes, let us forget about it" thing. Probably. I DON'T KNOW.

Okay. I think I'll just leave this for now, and if the plot dust bunnies attack...

And besides, I think you guys deserve a happy chapter after all of this drama and angst and weird triangles.

Reviews are appreciated, as always.

And for language translations:

陳麵條 – Chan/Chen Noodles

小姐 – Miss

進去 – Enter/Go in

_Hola, chico _– Hello, boy

_Eres cruel –_ You are cruel (in an informal manner)


	56. Enslaved

**Title:** Enslaved

**Genre:** Adventure/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Dashing FBI man Kanda Yuu meets the pet of a notorious mafia family.

**Disclaimer:** Why no, I don't own DGM and no, I'm not snapping handcuffs at Kanda and making leery faces at him while saying "You'll be mineeee."

**Notes:** I know shit about the FBI or the mafia. If you see anything that doesn't match up, please tell me so that I won't make the same mistake next time. And btw, important notes below about Facets. Teehee.

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_to be free is to be able to choose_

_and i hope you'll choose me_

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Rhode Camelot was the picture of innocence.

She cooed delightedly and immediately insisted that Kanda sit on the chair opposite to her. The chair itself was ornately carved from dark wood and the cushion he sat on was mauve with tiny flowers printed on it, lace edging the corners. The dining table alone was intimidating, with a patterned tablecloth and china plates. The room was dark, illuminated only by candles that made Rhode's features blur.

But despite the darkness and expensive setting, Rhode was nothing but a child. She bounced in her own seat, grinning mischievously at Kanda as if they shared a secret joke. She was dressed Gothic-style, with a a sweeping black dress and black ribbon in her hair.

Kanda despised her.

"So Yuu wants some references?" Rhode queried, her small hand grasping a goblet and sipping it delicately.

He adjusted the cravat around his neck—Kanda hated dressing up, but in this case, he knew better than to displease Rhode Camelot in any way, considering her own personal preferences and the position he was in. This was a precarious situation.

"Yuu is _stoic_," Rhode said, golden eyes laughing at him over the rim of her goblet. Kanda couldn't help but notice that the choker around her neck had a cross pendant. A _sharp, very dangerous _cross pendant, with needle-like points, with matching earrings that somehow didn't prick Rhode as her head raised to look at him inquisitively.

He grunted but was careful not to let his eyes dart instinctively at the forks and knives laid neatly next to his plate. Just in case.

"Do you have anything suitable or not?" he asked in his usual brusque manner, before realizing that he probably should have toned down the rudeness of his speech.

Rhode smiled at that. "No one's spoken to any member of the family like that in years," she said thoughtfully. Kanda tensed, wondering if she was going to attack, but she continued merrily, "I like that about you. You're not afraid of us, aren't you?" Cocking her head, she mused, "Though, fear is good. Fear is a way of controlling someone, of bending them to your will..."

Kanda was stiff in his seat, but he refused to let his fingers twitch towards the knives.

Sitting up, Rhode seemed to shrug and said briskly, "So! Yuu is looking for a pet as well. Unfortunately, it has become more difficult for the Noah family to get hold of high-quality persons. It will be more expensive, more time-consuming, than Yuu realizes."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Silly Yuu!" Rhode's eyes lit up, gleaming like two small suns in the darkened room. The candle flames on the chandelier and candle-holders all flickered together at once at her words. As if she hadn't noticed, Rhode set down her goblet and said, "It is a yes, of course, as long as Yuu is willing to pay the appropriate price and to go under certain—procedures. But does Yuu want to see an example of what kind of pet he might receive?"

The thumbnail-sized bluetooth in Kanda's ear seemed to crackle with static, and he waited for a few precious moments. A small voice said softly, _"Tell her you do. And whatever you do, do not pull anything reckless. Got it, Second?"_

He answered, "Yes."

Without moving her head or body at all, Rhode called out loudly, "Oh, Allen! Come and greet our guest!"

There was movement in the shadows of the room, in one of the darkest and most obscure corners. Then a patch of gleaming white seemed to rise and move slowly over to the dining table. As the white patch came closer and closer, Kanda saw that it was actually the white hair of a young slave boy. His skin, too, was almost as white as his hair, but most of it was covered in a plain black outfit with a long-sleeved shirt and pants containing several slashes here and there. What appeared to be a collar was cinched around his neck.

The boy's silver eyes were vacant, with a scar running down one of them. His motions were graceful but slow, as if he were half-sluggish with sleep. He said, in a child-like voice, "Mistress Rhode?" His eyes shifted for a moment to Kanda before shifting back to his mistress.

She clapped her hands joyfully. "My Allen is so pretty!" she exclaimed, her entire face lighting up. "Oh, just look at him, Yuu!"

The boy was beautiful, that was true, but Kanda examined the pet with a critical eye. There were bags under the boy's eyes and the distant look on his face indicated that he was far, far away from the room. The way he acted as if he hadn't heard Rhode at all made it seem as though he was keeping his emotions under lock and key. _'Psychological trauma?'_

"Come here, Allen," Rhode said in a voice that was almost gentle. She patted the seat next to her.

Allen made to move and as he did so, his shirt slipped a bit to reveal black ink on the bit of shoulder that was exposed. Kanda forced himself to hold his tongue—that was the clearest sign of a pet. He coughed discreetly, and the bluetooth all but hummed in his ear.

"_Good job, Second," _the voice said. _"Now get out of there. This is all the evidence we need."_

And Kanda was going to do that. His mouth opened to form an excuse, but suddenly, it closed.

Allen had sat down next to Rhode, and as she stroked his hair, his eyes suddenly cleared. He looked directly at Kanda and the look in his eyes was obvious: _Help me. _His shirt slipped down further until a small burn mark was evident on his collarbone.

Kanda wasn't a nice person. He was callous and antisocial and violent. He didn't believe in charity, and any acts of kindness from him were mostly accidental or for his own benefit. If the situation had been anything else, Kanda knew that he would have walked away and let the other FBI agents do their thing, even if there were victims in the process.

But he knew that he couldn't walk away from Allen. He knew it as well as he knew the tattoo on his chest that made him a marked man for the rest of his life, and he knew that walking away now would haunt him the same way.

He said, very calmly, "You Noahs are fucking dead," before grabbing the knives on the table and leaping out of his seat.

The bluetooth screamed into his ear, _"KANDA YOU BASTARD WHAT ARE YOU—"_

But, Kanda thought, there were more important things than obey orders, sometimes. And he never liked the damn boss anyway.

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**A/N: **No, I will not be continuing this. No, I won't reconsider. And no, Allen does not get rescued; in fact, Kanda is killed and the Noah family achieves world domination shortly afterward.

I lied about the last one. Yeah.

But there are more important things to talk about! Like...Facets! Because I realized that no, I'm not done with Facets, and yes, I would like to continue it. So I will be archiving what I have of Facets and the prequel Delusions, thus turning it into a story separate of Bleached Ink, and I will finish the story that way.

Reviews are appreciated, as always!

**waterlit: **Glad you think so. I'm trying to feel around the emotions of different people in the story.


	57. Gadabout

**Title:** Gadabout

**Genre:** Drama/Suspense

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "Are we really going to keep on playing this game?"

**Disclaimer:** No, I don't own DGM, and no, I'm not secretly plotting to steal Hoshino's bathtub in hopes that it would somehow transfer the ownership to—oh, just keep on reading.

**Notes:** Druggies in love. Or, well, one of them is a druggie.

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_what we're doing is so wrong_

_what's even worse is we're not even trying to stop_

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Everyone said that Kanda Yuu was different. He was sleekly graceful, a dangerous feline that didn't even bother trying to hide the fact that he was untamed and therefore untouchable. He was intelligent but in a way that made everyone want to hate his guts. He was slippery (hence the untouchable part), but if anyone ever got hold of him, they would find themselves cut down faster than they could say "ouch". The students wanted nothing to do with him, although the teachers had all attempted at least once to reach out to the Japanese teenager. What those teachers got out of their experiences in dealing with Kanda Yuu was, for the most part, increased irritation at him—which suited Kanda just fine.

He had no friends because he didn't want any. He skipped classes more often than not and spent his time lurking around the school, showing his face only when he wanted to be seen or heard of. He had an uncanny ability to appear before any student that happened to badmouth him at the time, which then led to rumors.

If one were to take all of the rumors seriously, he would have been born in six different places and had various different people as his parents. Some said that he was part of a gang; others claimed that he had escaped prison with only a toothpick. He was the illegitimate child of the president, raised by pirates and nursed by pigs. He spent his childhood in the jungle and worked as an assassin before high school.

Allen Walker knew better than to believe any of those rumors.

The rooftop was completely empty when he clambered his way up the stairs. Then again, considering that most of the other students were in class, Allen supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. Nevertheless, he stretched his arms and then laid down on the ground, feeling the breeze brush his hair in a tender gesture.

He only had to wait a minute before a shadow fell over him. He looked up to see dark glittering eyes observing him with a strange combination of curiosity and annoyance.

"Kanda!" Allen sat up abruptly, almost knocking their heads together. Kanda, for his part, lifted his own head so that he avoided that particular mess.

"Che," he said in response. His long ponytail swished behind him as he walked smoothly past Allen and to the railway, where he leaned against the bar and stared moodily out at the view before him. His back looked strong but solitary.

Allen shrugged to himself. "So," he said, "are you...you know."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Pause. "Sprout."

"So you're not," Allen said, fingering a strand of white hair. He never hated his hair exactly, but he did hate how it always garnered more attention than he usually desired to have focused on himself. But Kanda never stared at his hair—hadn't even looked at it when they had first met. So he smiled and continued, "You didn't get anything from one of the Mikk siblings?"

"They've been upping the price. It's a fucking pain in the ass to get all of that money."

"Well..."

Kanda swiveled his head, leveling a glare at Allen. "What?"

Allen ignored him. "You know the older guy, Tyki, and how he has a thing for me." Putting his hands behind his back, Allen said casually, "I may or may not have—stolen some certain things from him. He certainly didn't mind when I was putting my hands all over him."

Kanda shifted so that he faced Allen. Leaning on his arms that rested on the railway, he answered slowly, "Are you telling me that you prostituted yourself so that you could steal drugs from him?"

"Okay, technically it wasn't prostitution because I had to steal those drugs. I didn't ask for payment or anything. And I didn't do anything with him—well, besides feeling him up a bit, but I told him that I just tripped and needed a lift up. Which was true. His shoulder's really good for that."

With a smile, Allen reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag. White power was clearly visible in the bag.

The Japanese student started forward, but then forced himself to step back and relax.

"Kanda?"

"What do you want from me?" Kanda bit out.

There was a small sigh from the white-haired teen as Allen lowered the bag and pocketed it once more. He folded his arms. "Are we really going to keep on playing this game?"

Kanda's eyes lowered, lashes dark against his skin. His jaw was pale in the sunlight and Allen had to resist stepping forward and stroking that jawline with his fingers, and then maybe trail a hand down to his neck and then to those collarbones that peeked above his black shirt. Kanda hated being touched which really was a crying shame because Allen loved touch—it made him feel alive, but to each their own.

"Kanda," he said, "the Mikk siblings have set ridiculously high prices for drugs that aren't even high quality most of the time. I mean, seriously? Their cocaine is shit. Like, serious shit. Their marijuana, fine, it's pretty good, but it doesn't change the fact that it's expensive."

"Get to your fucking point," was all Kanda said.

"Look, I don't even do drugs, but I've been bumming this shit off Tyki for a while now. For _you._"

The wind whipped Kanda's ponytail in the air. He leaned back even further on the railway, as if he planned on dipping all the way back until he fell off. "So?"

"Am I the only person who you even talk to on a regular basis?"

"What's your problem?"

"My _problem,_" the white-haired teen hissed, "is that maybe I'm tired of just being your go-to guy."

Kanda's face didn't even twitch at that. "I can always find someone else," he said, almost cautioned. "I don't need you."

Allen couldn't stop himself from flinching. "Don't you—"

"What?"

"...Forget it. Take your stupid drugs." Allen tossed the bag angrily at Kanda who caught it neatly and turned it over in his hands. Seeing that the Japanese's attention was on the drugs, Allen turned on his heel and made to storm away—he was going to slam the bloody door hard enough so that Kanda would be knocked off his feet before stomping down the stairs with _emphasis, _and then he'd have to explain to his teacher why he had returned from his impromptu visit to the nurse's office and who even cares anymore because Kanda is an ungrateful prick who should choke on those stupid drugs he loved.

Except, you know, Kanda always screwed up his plans.

"Hey, Walker."

Allen stopped (it was a reflex, he would later scold to himself, a stupid reflex because Kanda always made him stop and look at him), and then turned to look back. "What do you want?" he asked, sounding and looking sullen.

Kanda merely smirked and waved the bag at him. "Thanks for this," he said smoothly.

It was only because of anger that Allen flushed, really, anger at Kanda's utter arrogance and disregard for the fact that Allen Walker would do _anything _for Kanda Yuu and okay, love kind of made you stupid but this wouldn't be the first time.

So he flushed and muttered quickly, "No problem," before zipping down the stairway. And he even forgot to slam the door.

On the rooftop, Kanda rolled a joint and inhaled deeply. He was still smirking.

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**A/N: **I don't advocate the usage of drugs. Really, guys, drugs are bad. They're horrible for you physically, mentally, spiritually, and so on. ...But I couldn't resist writing this. And by the way, if anyone's curious about the title of this chapter, a gadabout is a habitual pleasure-seeker according to Oxford.

And as another reminder, Facets has been turned into a standalone story outside of Bleached Ink and it was updated last week, with a new chapter that you won't find in Bleached Ink. Just so that you know.

Reviews are appreciated, as always.

**vampire-charmer-101: **You'll have to check out Facets. But for now, I don't know where that plot line is going either, so it's going to be a roller coaster for me as well. **Marlene: **I'm actually for happy endings, but not necessarily in a "Kanda and Allen get back together" kind of happy. And the dots and italicized couplets have become my trademark, and I'm glad that they enhance the chapters for you.


	58. Jasmine 1

**Title:** Jasmine (Part One)

**Genre:** Drama/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "If you start singing 'A Whole New World', I will cut you."

**Disclaimer:** Any DGM characters and Disney references are not mine. I think.

**Notes:** I like Disney songs, though I'm indifferent to Aladdin stuff, really. ...Yeah.

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_let me take you above the clouds_

_let me show you all that we can be_

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Wednesdays were always smack in the middle of the week which meant that anything could happen. At least, that was what Allen believed as he stood stock-still in in the hallway, staring down at Rhode with what could only be an incredulous expression on his normally smiling face.

"Pardon me?" he asked, blinking.

Rhode crossed her arms, huffing slightly. "I told you already. Lavi got sick yesterday so he can't play Aladdin in the musical, and the show starts _tomorrow._"

"Well, yes, but—"

"And you're the understudy."

"Rhode, I tried out for the Genie."

She snickered softly as if laughing at Allen's deadpan voice. "But Allen, we don't have an understudy for Lavi, and you were the best one by far even if the Earl didn't think that you suited the role of the Genie. Right now, you're the only one who can join on short notice since you already know all of the songs and lines by heart." Allen coughed discreetly at that; okay, so maybe he was a little obsessed with Aladdin, ever since he saw the musical version at Disneyland. Suddenly, Rhode's eyes gleamed and she inched closer. "Besides, if you play Aladdin, you can star opposite to Lenalee~"

"None of that," Allen said firmly. He shifted the textbooks in his arms, trying to look casual. "Isn't that even more of a reason for me not to play Aladdin? She's with Lavi, you know—"

"I'm not saying that you should steal her away from him," came Rhode's answer. She put a hand to her mouth as if shocked at the very idea. "All I'm saying is that just for one night, you can act as her love interest, even if it's just pretend. But if it really makes you uncomfortable, I can switch with her and—"

"You will make a fantastic Genie," the white-haired boy cut in quickly. "Don't switch, okay?"

She rocked on her heels, clasping her hands behind her back. "So?"

Allen looked longingly at a flyer pinned to the notice board on the hallway wall. **BLACK ORDER HIGH SCHOOL PRESENTS "ALADDIN: THE MUSICAL"**, it read. He had tried out for the Genie who had been his favorite character by far, but after losing the role to Rhode, he had instead been cast as one of the many nameless background characters. He had been content with that, actually somewhat relieved that he wouldn't be in the spotlight at all during the play, but he and Lavi had both hoped that they would have been able to interact as Aladdin and the Genie.

But now, playing Aladdin? With Lenalee as Jasmine?

Scrubbing a gloved hand over his face, he finally muttered, "Fine," to Rhode who looked ecstatic.

"Great!" She grabbed his wrist and, displaying remarkable strength for her tiny size, began to drag Allen down the hallway, ignoring the strange stares they were attracting. A tiny girl in a Catholic schoolgirl-esque outfit and a boy with white hair was quite a sight to see, even if most of the student body had already gotten used to Allen's coloring.

Allen spluttered. "Wait, where—?"

"We're going to the auditorium now!" she chirped at him over her shoulder. "We have to make last-minute costume adjustments and run through the entire play at least once! The Earl hates being unprepared, you know, although I'm sure you'll do fine."

She kicked open the door to the auditorium and hurried down the aisles. The rows of dark seats with blue velvet cushions were intimidating, to say the least, now that Allen knew those very seats would be completely filled during the show and _holy crap _he was the main character now and who were those two people on the stage with the Earl? The Earl was touching the brim of his top hat, hemming and hawing to himself as he looked over the two students in front of him and Allen thought dazedly, as Rhode continued to grip him tightly by the wrist, that the lights were rather bright and wow, he really hoped that he wouldn't forget his lines.

"Earl?" Rhode slowed as she approached the stage. She finally let go of Allen and clambered up the steps to the side onto the stage. She glanced at the two students and then looked back at the drama teacher. "Where is the rest of the cast? I thought we were going to practice when Allen got here?"

The Earl turned to face the newcomers. He cut an eccentric figure with his top hat and coattails, complete with an old-fashioned cane grasped in his hands—this was part of the reason why everyone called him the Earl, with his Victorian preferences. His eyes glittered noticeably when he saw that Allen was standing awkwardly in front of the stage, not quite daring to go up. However, the small smile on his face faded when he answered Rhode, "We've had a bit of a mishap, eheh..."

"Another one?" Rhode tilted her head.

The Earl tittered, touching his top hat again. "Regrettably, our dear Lenalee has, er, injured herself."

Rhode giggled nervously. "Oh no, it can't be. It's too much of a coincidence for both of our leads to..." She trailed off as the Earl contemplated the two people before him. Now that he was closer, Allen could see that they were Kanda and Alma respectively. They were both a year above him and Allen wondered idly why they had been gathered because he could have sworn that neither of them had tried out for a role in the musical.

Except then he realized that if Lenalee was injured...

"How is she?" he asked the Earl, biting his lower lip. He hated the thought of Lenalee being in pain and knew that she probably felt even worse for not being able to participate in the musical.

"Oh, just a silly sprain." The Earl waved a hand. "Though she had seemed perfectly fine not five minutes ago. I'm merely examining the potential replacements for Princess Jasmine at the moment." He nodded at Kanda and Alma; the former looked faintly irritated and the latter looked faintly embarrassed.

"I am not doing this," Kanda stated bluntly. His voice was low and gravelly.

"I-isn't Jasmine a girl?" Alma ventured timidly.

Allen visibly paled. "Jasmine will be a guy?"

"What happened to the female understudies?" Rhode asked curiously but without a trace of surprise in her words.

"That is—well, they all seem to have mysterious reasons as to why they can't possibly fill in for Lenalee at the show tomorrow." The Earl twirled his cane agitatedly. "But I'm sure that these two fine men will be more than willing to step in since both of them are quite familiar with Aladdin the Musical."

"I was the monkey for the musical at my last school!" Alma cried.

Allen stared at Kanda, who shrugged and snapped defensively, "So I know the damn songs. So what?"

Rhode was tapping her cheek, deep in thought. "Hm," she murmured to herself. "I'm certain that Lenalee had been fine before, and it's rather strange that all of the other girls—hm." Her golden eyes suddenly brightened and she snapped her fingers. "Ah ha! So that's it!"

"This is bullshit," Kanda was saying. He was fairly good-looking, Allen had to admit, even if his attitude was bad. He had long hair tied in a neat ponytail and dark eyes that smoldered (although with annoyance at the moment). "No way in hell am I doing this shit."

_'I can't say I'm jumping to play your romantic love interest either,' _Allen thought dryly. _'Or _his _love interest,' _he added after leveling a look at Alma, who appeared rooted to the spot. The mere idea of playing Aladdin to a very _male _Jasmine was enough to make him want to escape, but Rhode had sidled over to his side throughout the commotion and touched his arm warningly.

The Earl rose to his full height and straightened his top hat. He looked severely at Kanda. "Now, now, Kanda Yuu." His voice had become sickly sweet. "You do owe me a favor after I overlooked that little _mistake _of yours now, don't you?"

Kanda's eyes flickered pointedly at Allen and Rhode, his mouth tightening. The Earl ignored those small gestures and waited with a benign grin on his face.

Alma shuffled his feet nervously. "Yuu," he whispered, terrified as the Earl's grin widened increasingly.

The Japanese student and the drama teacher stared each other down for a long minute before Kanda looked away and down at the stage. "Fine," he said shortly.

"Excellent!" The Earl clapped his hands; Alma and Allen let out breaths that they didn't know they had been holding while Rhode watched the entire situation unfold. "Now, let us have both of you run through some lines and perhaps a song to see who will be better suited to play Jasmine."

Here, Allen ventured to say, "Ah, um, why do both of them have to try out for Jasmine? I mean, if they wanted, they could play Aladdin—"

"Ah, ah, ah." The drama teacher shook his head. "I've seen your audition already, Allen Walker, and you'll make a fine Aladdin, even if you're not exactly street rat material."

"Thanks, I think," Allen replied cautiously even as he bemoaned his fate.

"I _had _been looking for another way to present Aladdin in the first place, and this is it! What better way to show our openness than to have two males as the lead roles?"

Allen, Kanda, and Alma all reddened, though for different reasons.

"That is just—"

"Like I'm going to listen to this—"

"Is this even allowed—"

"I'll have no arguments!" the Earl declared, raising his hand to silence the three. "Chop chop, now, we don't have a lot of time. Let the two Jasmine candidates go through part of the script—Rhode, if you will, the scripts."

"Yes, Earl."

Rhode scrambled into the back of the stage and the Earl walked down the stairs, whistling merrily. Allen was left with Kanda and Alma who both looked as though they would rather be anywhere than there on that very stage.

If he wasn't going to be in the musical Lenalee, Allen thought that he might as well be civil at the very least. He awkwardly held out a hand. "I'm Allen—"

"If you start singing 'A Whole New World', I will cut you."

Allen's face twitched as Kanda stalked to the other side of the stage. Alma gave him an apologetic look before hurrying to follow.

Freaking _Wednesdays._

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**A/N: **Yes, there will be more of this. Yes, there will be pre-Yullen, but don't expect too much.

I really must apologize to all of you because I know a lot of you want a chapter with established Yullen for once, but for some reason, my muse refuses to cooperate. Or maybe I just like the whole dancing-around-each-other process before the actual relationship. One of those.

I was a little disappointed when fewer people reviewed in the last chapter. I really appreciate anything that you guys have to say about the chapter; anything from expressing your likes and dislikes to pointing out flaws in the chapter. So drop a review if you have the time, please!

**Marlene: **Allen is adorable like that. I want to cuddle him because he's such a teddy bear, all soft and friendly. **Vampire-charmer-101: **Allen will do anything for anyone he cares about, pretty much. It's a trait that I admire in canon, but really, he can be a bit stupid because of that as well.


	59. Karma

**Title:** Karma

**Genre:** Drama/Tragedy

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "They don't know that it is my death that will end their rule."

**Disclaimer:** Do I own? No. No, I don't, and shut up, I'm not crying.

**Notes:** Uh. I don't know what to make of this. Uh.

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_i tell you that i don't regret_

_i do wish that i had time to forgive_

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"It would help," a voice said serenely, words as soft as butterfly wings, "if you stopped struggling."

His eyes snapped open and he lunged forward, wincing only slightly as the bandaged wound on his shoulder protested the sudden movement. The woman who had been tending to him sat back on her heels, making protesting noises with her tongue against her teeth. He flinched away when she reached out to touch him. Her face, shadowed in the darkness of the cave, seemed to pinch until he forced his body to relax and she finally put a hand on his chest, feeling for a heart beat.

"Good," she murmured more to herself than to him. "It is strong."

His breathing was harsh in the stillness of the cave. He watched her suspiciously, distrustfully, as she began to carefully grind an assortment of herbs—he could not tell what since he wasn't well-versed in plant life, and it was difficult to see—in a small bowl until there was a fine powder at the bottom.

"You are quiet," she said.

He kept silent. He didn't need a seemingly ordinary woman to hear and remember the sound of his voice.

She bent down to pull a finely woven basket closer to her. He could hear liquid moving about—water, perhaps? He observed the way her short hair fell over her dark eyes, made even darker with the lack of light. It was mostly older women who kept their hair short as time whittled away at vanity for both convenience and humility, yet she couldn't be older than twenty at most.

With a small crude cup in hand, she scooped out some liquid and added the powder to it. "You must drink this."

He turned his face away in a childish gesture. She sighed.

He spoke. "I will not."

"He speaks." She looked at him then, straight in the eye. "Will he also give his name?"

But at this, he remained mum. Still, she drew closer and gently nudged at his cheek with the cup. He made to knock it away and she drew back, shaking her head with disapproval. Again, she continued to poke him here and there until he glared openly at her and bared his teeth, but she merely laughed at his show of aggression and rapped his shoulder smartly until he was forced to sink back down, his shoulder stinging and his pride smarting.

In the cave, footsteps were heard. He narrowed his eyes at where he could see the barest hint of light. A pale figure appeared to be walking towards them, a ghost in the silence of the cavern. His fingers twitched and he longed for his sword. The woman, on the other hand, smiled when she saw the figure.

"You should not have come," she insisted, despite the smile.

The figure neared and he could see that it was a mere boy with a youthful face and entrancing eyes. His hair as well as the loose tunic he wore was white, whiter than anything he had ever seen in his life. The boy's skin was unmarked as well except for a burning scar that ran down an eye and continued down to the cheek, and his left hand that appeared deformed, darker than the rest of his exposed skin and covered with unusual markings.

The boy noticed his stare and immediately tucked both hands behind his back.

"He has not taken it," the boy said, noticing the still-full cup that the woman held. His voice sounded as young as he looked.

"No," the woman confirmed. "I do not wish to force him."

"Lies," he muttered in response before realizing that perhaps he shouldn't have said anything. The woman and the boy glanced at him in surprise. A moment passed, and the boy chuckled lightly, covering his mouth with his unmarked hand.

"I am Clown," the boy said, putting a hand on his chest. His pale figure seemed to glow in the cavern like a star. "And who are you?"

His mouth thinned at the code name. "I am here to kill you." _'I think.'_

"Ah," the boy nodded, ignoring the woman's soft hiss. "Then you were sent to find the Black Order, were you not? To come and kill me?"

And he couldn't not answer that, to the boy's almost nonchalant tone and his flickering star-like eyes. "There are too many rumors about you, Crown Clown. You are too recognizable. It was only a problem of tracking you down." He spat the words out bitterly and Clown could hear the acidity in his voice.

"Clown—" the woman began, but Clown raised a finger and she was promptly silenced.

Lowering his hand, Clown ran his gaze over the wounded man, lingering on the shoulder for a moment before sliding down to trace the pattern of a strange tattoo on the man's chest. The boy's silver eyes flared suddenly and the scar on his face seemed to stand out with an ever-growing intensity, as bright as flames.

"Millennium sent you."

It was not a question. The man's mouth tightened.

The boy merely smiled. "They are afraid," he said, ignoring the man's tension. "They believe that I am the one who will destroy them."

_'Aren't you?' _the man thought.

But the boy laughed and it was a hollow sound. "They wish to kill me. But they don't understand that I will gladly accept my death. And do you understand why, nameless assassin?" Suddenly, he was kneeling before the wounded man and staring into his dark, dark eyes. "Do you understand?" he asked again quietly, and all the man could see of the boy's face was that red, red scar.

The man growled and shook his head.

"They don't know that it is my death that will end their rule."

"Clown!" The woman called Dark scrambled to her feet. "You can't tell him that. We don't know for sure and what makes you think that he won't share that information with Millennium? We haven't fought this long to throw our chance away!"

But Clown hushed her, stroking her short hair. "I've had enough time," he said. "He won't tell. I know." And, turning back to the wounded man, Clown lifted his chin defiantly. "Do you see now that I won't kill you because I have no need to?"

"As if you could," the man said tonelessly, but his mind was racing.

Clown touched the tattoo on the man's chest and the man flinched. Clown continued, "When you are ready to travel, you will leave. You may return to kill me if you wish. You may even tell Millennium that it won't matter if I die by their hands or not because I _will _die and their rule _will _end." Again, the boy smiled and he looked so young, so vulnerable. "Someone will kill me one day. Tell them, if you wish, to fear that day. But you I will spare because I hope you will live to see that day. Nothing silly like hoping you will spare me in return."

He removed his hand from the man's chest and a warmth disappeared from the cave. The boy rose, patted a hand over his pale clothing, and departed. The light seemed to disappear, and the man found himself in near darkness once again.

Dark was still staring at him. He returned her gaze, not knowing what she was thinking. At last, she settled back down on the ground and rummaged through some objects in another basket behind her. She withdrew a long sheathed sword and a seal attached to a cord before offering the items to the man.

"Why?" he asked before he could stop himself.

She answered simply, "I can see that you want to leave." She wavered. "My name is Lenalee."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because," she said, "I'm not Clown. I want something in return after I give you your sword and seal."

Enemy though he was, the man held honor. So he said grudgingly, "Name it."

"When he dies—" and there was no need to explain who "he" was, "—I want you to kill the person who did the deed."

"And if that person were one of your own?"

Immediately, the man found himself staring into completely and utter darkness. He could not even see the form of Dark beside him.

And he heard her say, "Then I hope you will be merciful."

He didn't say, "You don't look like the kind of person who would want other people dead," but it was on his expression. Nevertheless, he did say, "Very well," and instead, he thought of the boy with eyes like silver pools and the scar that burned in his mind, and there was no doubt that the boy was something else, even if his death didn't bring peace in the end.

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Millennium was laughing. They were He, and He was them, and they laughed as a collective body and as a set of individuals, each more twisted than the last. Their golden eyes danced over the bodies, the bodies, the bodies and the wreckage and the sorrow and the bodies. They were He, and He was them, and the man stood on top of a ruined village that once was and now wasn't. From his roost, he could see the pale, pale body of the boy.

A woman was weeping over him. It wasn't Dark—no, Lenalee. He walked down to her, his feet crunching on burned wood and gore. The woman shivered as he made his presence known, but she refused to turn toward him.

He asked, "Lenalee?"

The woman sobbed harder. "D-dead," she whispered, and at that, he could see the shadows under her eyes. "Like the rest." She hunched over the boy almost protectively, but the tears continued to fall because she knew as well as the man that it was useless.

The man felt the sword on his hip and tilted his head back. Closed his eyes. "What is your name?"

She looked at him then. "I, I don't," she began. And then she stopped. Stared straight at his exposed chest, his clothing torn to shreds thanks to the battle. "You—you're him?"

The man said, "Yes."

The woman fisted her hands in the skirts of her dirty dress. She murmured, "I am Time. But before that, I am Miranda." She smoothed one hand over the boy's arm, the deformed one, and fresh tears fell from her eyes though she spoke with a steady voice. "I could not save him. Despite everything I did, I could not save him from this."

And the man understood, then. "He laughed, at the very end?"

"Like his murderer," Miranda said, and her voice was hard though she did not look at Millennium and their golden eyes and the way they rose ever higher into the sky, and they became Him and He became them, and they were one and they were many.

The man opened his eyes and knew, for once in his entire life, what he had to do. "Tell me," he said to Miranda.

Her eyes were black with grief and for a moment, she looked just like Lenalee. "Avenge him," she begged. "Half of the battle is already over. You need not fear."

The man said, "I fear nothing," and he unsheathed his sword and bound towards Millennium, twisting and writhing in the red, red sky.

And he thought of lives that were saved, tattoos that were branded from an early age, humans who were hunted for the sake of hunting, scars that were both visible and invisible, of laughing and dying with the knowledge that the burden was to be lifted because all was right in the world because half of the battle was already finished.

And he wondered then if the boy had seen this ending, if he had known.

He decided that it didn't matter as he brought his sword down upon He who was them and them who was He, and Millennium screamed and agonized and finally fell to the ground with a final quake and the sun went down and all was quiet.

It took a boy's death to end the rule of the Millennium, but it was a man's sword that brought peace.

Or, perhaps, it was the other way around.

"His name was Allen," Miranda whispered.

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**A/N: **Too abstract? Too vague? Well, too bad, because I'm too lazy to turn this into a longer story.

Uh. I really don't have anything to say about this. Interpret this as you will and really, I swear that I will write established!Yullen one of these days. Maybe. Possibly. Hopefully?

But your reviews are appreciated! If you want established!Yullen, then complain as much as you want because I'm been kind of a douchey writer lately and you should give me crap for that. But not too much. Or, you know, you can just drop any old review. One of those.

And yes, Jasmine will be updated next time. Really.

**vampire-charmer-101: **I can't imagine Kanda as Jasmine in a serious manner, at least. He would make an awful Jasmine, but it would be funny as hell. **Iago: **I hold the belief that anything can happen on Wednesdays. They're scarier than Mondays in my opinion. **waterlit: **Haha, I never have trouble coming up with ideas. The problem is actually getting down and writing them out because...I'm lazy. **The Only Princess: **Same here. I can't get the image of Kanda in a Jasmine costume out of my mind. I may or may not have used Photoshop to satisfy my curiosity, cough cough.


	60. Turning

**Title:** Turning

**Genre: **Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** It doesn't matter if their story might not have turned into a love story.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Quite frankly, I have a lot more fun playing with the characters instead of owning them.

**Notes:** Short chapter, guys. Jasmine is up next.

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_every time I look at you_

_i'm reminded of why we are here together_

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Sometimes Kanda looks at Allen (at his hair, at his hands, at his neck, at his _eyes, _oh goodness) and tries to remember when he had first felt something for the other boy that hadn't been full-out hostility. He remembers their first meeting as if it had been only yesterday; it had involved a water gun, two pieces of hard candy, and scissors. Needless to say, it had been an impressionable and traumatic experience for the both of them. It had also ended with them hating the other's guts.

No matter what the movies, books, TV shows, and songs say, there aren't specific "A-ha!" moments. Kanda knows for certain that he hadn't had a moment when he came to the conclusion that he had been madly in love with Allen Walker all along.

It had been something slower, something sweeter, something more natural.

There's this one time shortly after the Traumatic First Meeting that Kanda likes looking back on. There was Allen, sitting at the steps leading up to the school building, holding the sorriest doll that Kanda had ever seen. It must have been lovely once, but now it looked pathetic with straggly blond hair and a torn, dirty dress.

He hadn't been able to resist going up to the white-haired boy and saying, "What are you doing with that junk?"

Allen's head had snapped up and he stared at Kanda with hard silver eyes. "This is not junk," he had replied, his normally boyish voice like steel. He had cradled the doll in his arms, almost shielding it from Kanda's view. "Her name is Lala."

"You named it?"

"I didn't name _her._ But that's her name."

Kanda had snorted. "Whatever. So what are you doing with it?"

"I don't want to talk to you." Allen tilted his chin up defiantly. "Get out of my face, please."

And for some reason, that had inflamed the Japanese boy. He didn't like being dismissed or ignored, especially not by guys like Allen who were made up of sugar and spice and things that were nice, stuff like that. Still, he had contented himself with a glare and gone up the steps, refusing to spare a thought for Allen and the ugly doll.

He found out later via Lavi, one of the only students in the school who had never seemed put off by his bad attitude, that Allen had been trying to repair the doll for one of the kids at the daycare center that Allen volunteered at. Kanda had found so many things wrong with that, one of them being why anyone would want to even take the time to repair a doll like that, but the overall experience had solidified his belief that Allen was a do-gooder. He was sweet and nice, and Kanda hated people like him.

Kanda never did find out if the doll had been successfully repaired or not, but Allen had been subdued for a week after.

"So he didn't fix it," he had commented to Lavi.

"No. He was pretty torn up by it. The doll was too old, though. He had to throw it away for the kid."

Kanda had fallen silent at that because Allen had to be beating himself up for that. "Huh. Tough for the sprout."

He remembered finding Allen in one of the study rooms in the library during lunch. He had been trying to sort through his biology notes, but seeing the white head resting on the table had made him give pause. Before he knew it, he was approaching Allen and rapping him smartly on the head with a pencil.

"Ow," came Allen's muffled voice. He raised his head, took one look at Kanda, and groaned. "Oh, it's you."

The Japanese student scowled at that. "Head up, sprout. Don't be such a fucking rain cloud."

"Since when did you care?"

"I don't. But you're stupid for being all depressed over a broken doll."

Allen's eyes were soft and wet at the moment, kind of like a cow's. "Lala meant so much to him, though. And I couldn't fix her."

Kanda took a seat and opened his notebook, flipping through the pages with a practiced hand. "Some things can't be fixed after a certain point," he countered. "It's not the end of the world if you let one person down."

"Easy for you to say..." Allen's head fell down again. "Any small thing that you do might be the one thing that helps someone."

Kanda glanced at him, dark eyes darkening even further. "That's dangerous. I bet you run yourself ragged thinking that everything you will help someone. Well, guess what? You're going to end up killing yourself like that. Now how will you help people?"

Allen was staring at him again. Kanda frowned. He had just made a point, hadn't he?

Slowly, Allen said, "That's not—I'm not trying to—"

"What do you think you are, a hero? You can't save the whole world."

"I'm not..." Silver eyes widened. "I'm not trying to save the whole world, but I have to—to save who I can!"

"And one more thing; you can't save people. You can help them all you want, but if someone needs to be saved, they have to be the one to do it in the end." Kanda closed his notebook and leveled a glare at Allen. "Stop doing the work for everyone because it's not going to be worth anything. Fuck, I hate people like you, why am I even talking to you? Go and die or something, like I care." Temper thoroughly roused, he left the study room with his biology notes tucked under his arm, knowing full well that Allen was still staring after him.

It was at that point that he realized he didn't really hate Allen. He was just extremely annoyed by the guy's masochistic Messiah complex.

Kanda thinks that maybe that was the starting point. It all started falling together from there because after that, Allen became slightly more cheerful and he looked more thoughtful than irritated whenever he saw Kanda. And Kanda had been mildly satisfied by the result of that talk.

"Kanda," Allen had said a few weeks after the talk. Kanda had been searching for a book on Chinese history amongst the library bookshelves.

"What do you want?" Kanda took down a book, checking the title and contents.

Allen observed him for a moment, hands twisting in front of him. Finally, he said quietly, "I think what you said was right."

"I'm always right," the Japanese student rolled his eyes. "Is that all? Because I don't want to hear any thanks because that's kind of disgusting. Go away, leave me alone."

But instead of taking offense like he had always done before, Allen had laughed. He laughed right at Kanda's face. "S-sorry," he gasped out, holding his stomach. "It's just—I think I just realized that that's your way of telling me you're embarrassed."

Now it was Kanda's turn to stare. "What."

Allen laughed again, shaking his head. "You're really not such a jerk, are you?" he said almost fondly, before hightailing it out of there.

Sometimes Kanda looks at Allen (at his hair, at his hands, at his neck, at his _eyes, _oh goodness) and tries to remember when he had first felt something for the other boy that hadn't been full-out hostility. And he thinks that maybe it's impossible to pinpoint the exact moment when his feelings had taken a completely different direction, but if he has to pick one time when they had started to turn, it has to be that moment. Because he remembers Allen and his laughing silver eyes from that memory, of broken dolls and biology notes.

All stories have beginnings. And maybe, just maybe, that moment had been the beginning of theirs. He hadn't known that it would have turned into a love story, but that doesn't matter.

"What are you thinking about?" Allen whispers into his ear, the movie theater providing absolute darkness.

Kanda clasps Allen's hand almost absentmindedly. "You," he says honestly.

It doesn't matter if their story might not have turned into a love story. Kanda listens to Allen's soft laugh at his admission and thinks that he won't forget all of the events that led up to now, no matter how painful or embarrassing some of them were, because their love story is one that will last.

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**A/N: **I honestly have nothing to say about this except that it is slightly rushed but I don't really care because I had to put this up earlier because I have srz bznz to take care of the rest of this week and you guys, you guys, I love you all so much. Really. I appreciate your reviews and input and lurking so much. That is all.

**The Only Princess: **I'm trying to include other characters besides the usual Kanda, Allen, Lavi, Lenalee, etc. Heh. Miranda will definitely be appearing more often. **vampire-charmer-101: **The name thing is a bit vague, but basically, a person's special power is defined by their name. **inawe: **Haha, glad that you think so. **waterlit: **I guess it's so abstract that it's solid? Great to hear that it's one of your favorites now, though. **Marlene: **Haha, I just noticed that the title was a bit misleading. Hope your tooth feels better!


	61. Jasmine 2

**Title:** Jasmine (Part Two)

**Genre:** Drama/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "If my life were a Disney movie, it wouldn't be Aladdin. No offense."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Aladdin or DGM. I don't think I'd want to, either. Kind of hard to explain why I'm writing fanfiction if that were the case...

**Notes:** Someone needs to draw Kanda in a Jasmine costume. That picture is begging to be drawn.

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_no matter who you pretended to be_

_it was inevitable, wasn't it?_

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"I think," Allen stated dully, "that this musical can't get any worse than this."

"Easy for you to say," Alma replied just as sullenly. "You're at least human_._"

"Andthe main character."

"Oh yeah." Blinking, Alma shrugged a shoulder, looking more nonchalant than he probably felt. He patted Allen on the back as they stood in the wings of the stage, smiling sheepishly. "I'm, uh, I _am _sorry that everything turned out the way they did."

"You _asshole!_"

The two of them fixed blank stares out onto the center of the stage, where the Earl was scolding and rapping his cane about the floor. Kanda was next to them, arms folded defensively. A somewhat wrinkled script was on the ground, no doubt thrown there by a furious "Princess Jasmine" and _no, _"Princess Jasmine" did not want to pretend that she was a fucking bird in a gilded cage because the fucking musical could go screw itself.

"You know that if he said that during the performance, he would be breaking the fourth wall," came the comment from "Aladdin", who looked as if he were contemplating breaking his leg. Except, you know, they didn't have an understudy for the understudy, so Allen was sort of screwed the same way the musical was screwed.

"You _must _rid yourself of that _scowl, _Kanda Yuu!" the Earl was saying crossly, tugging agitatedly at his cravat.

"No."

"That scowl will be marvelous after Jasmine has a spat with the sultan, but it is entirely inappropriate for the current scene!" The Earl's top hat was trembling as his voice grew louder and louder. For his part, Kanda appeared as irritated and stubborn as ever, refusing to back away as the Earl approached him.

"I said I'd do this musical," the Japanese student grumbled. "I didn't say I'd do a good job."

"_Kanda Yuu!_"

"I kind of feel for him," Allen confessed.

"Hm?"

"He's already being forced to wear...well. To wear _that_."

"Oh." Absently petting the stuffed red bird in his hands, Alma eyed Kanda for a moment before giggling helplessly. "I feel bad for him too. I shouldn't—I shouldn't laugh, but this is going to be so bad for him during the actual show. Everyone's going to laugh at him."

"If they don't laugh at me first," the white-haired student muttered.

He quickly glanced at everyone involved. Alma was standing right next to him, clad in black and holding a stuffed Iago. The Earl had ultimately decided to cut Aladdin's pet monkey out of the script and let Alma play the bird instead. That left Kanda to play Jasmine, and said student was scowling hard enough to spoil milk. Not that anyone could blame him; the Jasmine costume _had _been modified so that it fit Kanda's bulkier frame, but the fact remained that he was wearing a turquoise vest, a jeweled headband in place of a tiara or crown, and puffy pants reminiscent of the ones the real Princess Jasmine had worn in the Disney movie.

But Allen knew that he wasn't much better off. Aladdin's prince disguise was ridiculous, with the golden shoes and the cape and the freaking _turban. _At least the backdrop was gorgeous, featuring the inside of a palace with the balcony in the back, all midnight blue sky.

Rhode was bouncing on her feet on the other side of the stages, also hidden in the wings. She was dressed in a long-sleeved blue shirt, a red sash around her hips, and navy blue sweatpants. She winked when she noticed Allen's gaze and waved enthusiastically. "_Hi,_" she mouthed, grinning madly and jabbing a finger at the Earl and Kanda still featured in the center of the stage. "_Great show, huh?_"

"_If you think so,_" Allen mouthed back, smiling despite himself.

"I _said _to stop scowling, Kanda Yuu!"

"Remind me how we got through the other scenes again?" Alma whispered, eyes still on stage with some kind of horrified fascination. Behind the two of them, they could hear the girls playing minor characters giggling as the Earl flailed, arms flapping wildly as the tailcoats of his jacket fluttered.

"Jasmine was supposed to look all grouchy in the first few scenes," Allen muttered back. "And we kind of winged the rest."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"...So now—"

"Yeah. This is the first scene when Jasmine's all by herself."

The rapping of the Earl's cane brought Alma and Allen's attention back to the stage just in time to see Kanda stalking off to where Rhode was still bouncing on her feet. The Earl was beckoning for Allen to get onto the stage and after a moment of trepidation, "Aladdin" came reluctantly forward, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his disgustingly princely pants. He could see Rhode dusting off Kanda and putting a hand on his cheek, speaking softly to him.

"What now?" he asked the Earl wearily as the spotlight shone down hard on him. For a moment, he had the wild hope that the Earl was going to cut Kanda from the production and okay, he had no idea how the musical would still work without a Princess Jasmine but this _really _wasn't working.

The Earl cleared his throat. "Since we're having a bit of a roadblock with the acting—"

"This musical sucks!"

"Princess Jasmine is a bitch!"

"She's a cross-dresser!"

"Aladdin's just a scrawny brat!"

The top hat came dangerously near to falling off of the Earl's head as he turned towards the other actors in the wings and bellowed, "Silence! We are fortunate to even have a Princess Jasmine to work with in this musical and if there are any complaints, feel free to take the nearest exit!"

Allen could hear feet shuffling in the back and after another moment of silence, the Earl resumed speaking.

"We will move onto the next scene," he continued, only sounding slightly strained. "Perhaps Kanda Yuu will feel more motivated if he were forced to act with someone more hard-working. There is amazing chemistry, Allen Walker, and it would be a shame to waste that chemistry if Jasmine keeps her scowl and you...show little interest in her."

_'Except I don't have interest in "her" because, uh, _male._' _But instead of saying that to the Earl's face, Allen smiled wearily. "Okay."

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**SCENE THIRTY-TWO**

(JASMINE is left facing the audience, staring out after finishing the song. She is unaware of ALADDIN climbing onto the balcony behind her and does not notice him stepping into her room until he clears his throat politely.)

ALADDIN

Princess...Jasmine?

JASMINE

(whirling around, looking surprised and murderous)

What the fuck, sprout?

THE EARL

(whispering furiously from the backstage)

That is not in the script!

JASMINE

Go away.

ALADDIN

(seemingly floundered but determined to go on)

Ahem. I couldn't help but notice—

JASMINE

What are you doing here?

(ALADDIN walks across the stage to approach JASMINE. She backs a few feet away from him.)

ALADDIN

I just thought that you might want to get out of here.

(ALADDIN gestures to the balcony and at the night sky.)

Don't you want to see the world instead of staying here by yourself, like a caged bird?

JASMINE

That's a cheesy line. Are you seriously going to say that with a straight face with people watching?

ALADDIN

(gritting his teeth)

Let's stick with our lines, _Jasmine..._

THE EARL

Or else!

GENIE

Their ab-lib is cute, though.

THE EARL

Hush! GENIE isn't on yet!

IAGO

They _are _pretty cute.

THE EARL

Silence, bird!

JASMINE

Whatever.

(JASMINE paces a bit, screwing up her face for a moment.)

I don't care about silly princes who want to marry me so they can get my father's throne—seriously, these lines suck—so get out of here before I call the guards.

(JASMINE pauses and glances at ALADDIN, who mouths something.)

Uh. And...get out of here. Seriously.

(ALADDIN shakes his head, but hunches and looks forlorn.)

ALADDIN

Oh. Well, okay. I'll just get going.

(ALADDIN walks back to the balcony where he came from as JASMINE watches. He stands on the balcony.)

Good night, princess.

(ALADDIN is about to step backward, trips on his cape, and falls forward instead, landing on his face.)

THE EARL

(groaning)

That is also not on the script!

ALADDIN

(sits up, holding his turban)

Ow.

JASMINE

Clumsy sprout.

ALADDIN

I think I bruised. Ow. If my life were a Disney movie, it wouldn't be Aladdin. No offense.

GENIE

You know, adding that trip might help the scene. It would be more development for their interaction.

ALADDIN

I would be in a Disney movie where everyone walks on pillows. _Pillows. _So tripping wouldn't hurt as much. Ow.

THE EARL

(shaking his head gravely)

We must take this scene from the top again. This cannot happen during an actual performance.

(THE EARL walks to the center of the stage towards JASMINE, who has folded her arms defensively.)

Kanda Yuu. I expected for you to cooperate, but if you continue to be adamant about your behavior, I will be forced to report your arsonist aspirations.

ALADDIN

What?

IAGO

Kanda kind of...tried to set the boys' bathroom on fire.

JASMINE

(angrily)

Okay. Okay! Fine. I'll participate and I won't complain. Fucking fine by you?

THE EARL

Perfectly. Now back to the top!

ALADDIN

(groaning)

But I'm _injured._

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**A/N: **One more part to Jasmine, guys: an actual performance.

And now an important announcement for both my _Bleached Ink_ and _Of Faceted Interests_ readers involving my updating schedule. I update both of these stories every two weeks; I know that not every author can afford to do so, and I've always tried to be consistent. Unfortunately, my life is about to get a lot busier for the rest of the year. Like, A;LKSDFJALKDJS I WANT TO DIEEEE kind of busy. And the thing is, I do still have other oneshots from different fandoms that I want to finish and am close to finishing.

So what with juggling this and that and more of this and more of that...I will be adjusting my schedule. I will be updating OFI once a month. I will eke out the third and final part for Jasmine in August before putting BI on a hiatus. I'm not sure how long this new schedule will last, but rest assured that it isn't permanent. Just don't expect regular updates again probably for the next few months, at least.

I thank you all for taking the time to read this author's note. I never expected for BI to go on for so long, and it _will _continue.

As always, reviews are appreciated.

**The Only Princess: **Pre-relationship is always fun to write. It's getting dangerously addicting. **vampire-charmer-101: **Kanda's character can be difficult for me to write, especially when I want him to be more caring and all that. But I hold the secret belief that he is a softie on the inside.


	62. Jasmine 3

**Title:** Jasmine (Part Three)

**Genre:** Drama/Humor

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** "If I never have to play Kanda Yuu's love interest again, it would still be too soon."

**Disclaimer:** No. Just...no. I am not up for this right now.

**Notes:** Blink-and-you'll-miss-the-pre-Yullen-hints.

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_let's remember these moments_

_before the curtain falls_

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"I want to die," Allen stated frankly.

"You should have been here last year," Rhode countered, adjusting the sash around her waist so that it didn't slip. "We put on _RENT. _You would have made the most adorable Angel. Oh, and Kanda would play Collins!"

"...Aren't they together?"

"Duh."

Allen pulled a face, and his turban (the smaller one, not the princely one) drooped. Frowning, he pushed it back onto his head in its proper position. "If I never have to play Kanda Yuu's love interest again, it would still be too soon." He spoke in a low whisper, aware that just beyond the thick curtain was an audience ready to see a well-performed musical. The thought of getting out there still made his knees knock together, so he concentrated on Rhode's wicked expression. "What?"

"Well, _technically,_" and Allen could practically feel her draw out the last word, "you're playing _Princess Jasmine's _love interest."

"Princess Jasmine who is Kanda Yuu under the costume and makeup."

"Bah." Rhode whipped her sash off in one fluid motion and whipped Allen's side with it. It didn't really sting, but he grimaced anyway.

"Hey—"

"The actor becomes his or her character," Rhode replied, cutting Allen off. "Kanda may be a poor actor, but for the time being, he is still one of our important characters." She paused, and the white-haired student could hear the sounds of the musical being prepared; of technicians frantically darting about the lights, of choir boys whispering lyrics to each other, of the other actors quickly dabbing blush onto their cheeks.

Rhode continued. "Hate Kanda all you want, but remember that Aladdin falls in love with Princess Jasmine. No matter how distasteful you find her actor, you cannot hate her character as Aladdin."

Before Allen could say anything else, the Earl's voice rose above all of the chatter and mad dashing. "Ladies and gentlemen," he boomed, and a hush fell over the auditorium. "I thank you all for attending Black Order High School's musical adaptation of Aladdin. Please note that flash photography—"

"Oh no, oh no, oh no oh no oh nooo," whimpered a choir girl.

"It's starting, it's starting!"

"Quick, where's Marie? He needs to start the opening song—"

And the Earl was concluding his speech and Allen was still behind the curtain and Rhode, Rhode tugged at his arm and led him away into the wings. Marie passed by them, his figure tall and commanding, as he dragged along a cardboard camel and began to hum quietly under his breath, "_Oh, I come from a land, from a faraway place, where the caravan camels roam—_"

And the musical started.

Allen waited in the wings, twisting his hands and glancing out onto the stage even though he couldn't really see anything. Rhode had left him to do a last makeup check. He heard Marie's deep voice and silently recited the first verse of the first song to himself. He ran through his cues and his lines, hopping from one foot to another.

He watched as Tyki Mikk, who was a year above him, stride out as Jafar.

He could hear shrieks of laughter whenever Alma as Iago spoke.

He listened as loud background music blasted from the speakers.

"Fuck, I want to die."

Startled, Allen whipped his head around and his turban fell off for good this time. However, quick as a cat, Kanda Yuu snatched the prop before it landed on the ground and held it out with a grudging sort of awkwardness that Allen always felt around loners such as Kanda. "Uh, thanks," he said cautiously, taking the turban back gingerly. His eyes immediately focused on the customary scowl painted on Kanda's face and blanched. Not sure what to say next, he blurted out, "Aren't you supposed to go out soon? In the next scene?"

"Hmph." Kanda looked away huffily, the plastic gems on his headband gleaming.

Allen looked down at his shoes. Softly, he said, "Are you, you know, uncomfortable with the guy thing?"

Dark eyes found his, and Kanda tilted his head, looking bemused. "Huh?"

"It's kind of..." The white-haired boy hesitated. "It's kind of gay."

"Princess Jasmine" rolled his eyes. "I know I'm not gay, Walker, so I don't really give a crap if anyone else thinks so." Allen rolled his own eyes in his head because of course Kanda wouldn't give a crap. He would just beat up anyone who dared to even look him the wrong way. Although, Allen did have his thoughts about Kanda's sexuality as he eyed the long dark hair, prettier than most hairstyles that girls sported in the school. And there was the high cheekbones, the flawless skin, the way Kanda moved because Allen had never seen anyone else, guy or girl, move as gracefully and scornfully as Kanda.

"Well..." Allen trailed off. "Well. Okay. But you always looked really angry whenever we had a—a scene together."

"You weren't spouting rainbows and sunshine around me either," Kanda grumbled, arms folded across his chest. "You got a problem with the gay thing yourself?"

"Wha—_no. _No. That's not it."

"Then what?" was the impatient question.

_Because I was happy for a moment thinking that I could act with Lenalee, _was what Allen wanted to say. But he didn't want to seem pathetic because face it, Allen wasn't good boyfriend material. He was a freak at best, what with his physical attributes, and he knew he wasn't really—manly. He was still of the opinion that effeminate features was a curse because who the hell wanted to look like a girl when he felt one hundred percent male?

But before he could think of something else to say, someone was hissing from the back, "Jasmine, Kanda, get your ass onto the stage right now before you miss another damn cue, you good for nothing, son of a—"

Kanda flipped off whoever had interrupted them and walked past Allen without another glance.

The white-haired boy was left standing alone in the wings, still clutching his turban.

And soon, it was his turn.

"One Jump Ahead" was a fast-paced song, fun but difficult at the same time. Allen found himself zig-zagging through stage extras with an apple tucked in his shirt, making sure that the audience could follow him as he sang as loudly as he could without having to take gulping breaths to do so. "_One jump, ahead of the hoofbeats—_"

"_Vandal!_" yelled the stage extras as they made exaggerated running movements toward him.

"_One hop ahead of the hump—_"

"_Street rat!_"

"_One trick ahead of disaster—_"

"_Scoundrel!_"

Here, Allen scrambled onto a precarious platform and grabbed one of the bars for support. "_They're quick, but I'm much faster—_"

"_Take that!_" The crowd came to a stop in front of the platform and glowered at him.

Allen bent his knees crouched. "_Here goes, better throw my hand in, wish me happy landin', all I gotta do is—jump!_" And with an almighty leap, he came off the platform and landed with a hard thump into the wings,. The crowd howled with displeasure as he sat on the ground, hidden and grinning, and took a second to catch his breath. As the crowd slowly dispersed, he crept back to the stage, putting his finger to his lips as the audience laughed and pointed at him.

Now it was time for a disguised Princess Jasmine to make her entrance.

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**SCENE EIGHT**

(ALADDIN walks slowly to blend in with the other citizens. JASMINE bumps into him with her hood covering her face and clothes. There is a brief giggle as JASMINE is noticeably taller than ALADDIN.)

ALADDIN

Whoa there.

JASMINE

(ducking her head)

Watch where you're going.

(ALADDIN frowns at her brusque tone. There is another giggle as JASMINE's voice is lower than ALADDIN's.)

ALADDIN

Hey, you were the one who bumped into _me..._

(ALADDIN stops and shakes his head.)

Never mind. You look new anyways. You lost or something?

JASMINE

No, I'm not lost—

(JASMINE stops talking as her stomach growls loudly and looks at ALADDIN.)

...I'm not lost.

(As JASMINE speaks, her hood falls off. ALADDIN stares her with his mouth open. Laughs and giggles are heard throughout, amid whispers of "Is that Kanda—?", "Oh my god," "Shut the front door.")

ALADDIN

(glances at his apple)

Well, it's not much, but here.

(ALADDIN hands the apple over to JASMINE.)

JASMINE

(glaring)

You probably stole it, didn't you?

ALADDIN

(raises his hands defensively)

Look, a guy has to look out for himself. It's not like I have any money either.

JASMINE

Your parents?

ALADDIN

Never had any. I'm been out on the streets for as long as I can remember.

JASMINE

(looks down)

Oh... That's, that's kind of sad.

(ALADDIN makes an impatient gesture with his finger.)

Uh. I'm sorry to hear that.

ALADDIN

People like me find other ways to survive, even if others call us street rats.

JASMINE

(hesitates)

Thanks. I guess.

(ALADDIN coughs discreetly. JASMINE blinks, confused. ALADDIN coughs again.)

...I mean, you're very kind.

(JASMINE ungraciously takes the apple from ALADDIN. At this point, GUARD #1 and GUARD #2 push their way through the crowd.)

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Somehow, the musical continued smoothly. Allen made appropriate struggling motions as the guards carried him away despite Kanda's protests that were less monotoned than usual. Allen got the thrice-damned lamp from the mouth of the freaking sand lion thing as Tyki Mikk crowed and twirled his cape. Allen sat through Rhode's energetic delivery of "Friend Like Me", smiling and even allowing himself to twirl a few of the stage extras. He did his best to keep his head upright underneath the gigantic mushroom that they called a turban. Even the balcony scene went better than anyone who had witnessed the dress rehearsals thought it would turn out.

Allen could practically hear the Earl whimpering backstage, "I can die happy now."

Except right now, they had to sing The Song.

Allen knew Disney movies. He knew every movie had The Song which basically served as the theme music. And out of all of the Disney movies, there were songs that _everyone _knew. They were iconic songs, songs that were cheesy and simple and heartfelt, songs that kids had grown up humming to themselves coming out of the movie theaters.

"A Whole New World" was The Song. And now he and Kanda had to sing The Song.

The Earl had mused over this particular point during rehearsals. Kanda's voice was a bit too deep for him to successfully pull off Jasmine's part. What he had ended up doing was assign Kanda all of the choruses and to let Allen sing both Aladdin and Jasmine's parts in the verses.

And now, Kanda and Allen clambered onto the platform where a colorful carpet was spread. Allen sat behind Kanda and gingerly put his hands on the Japanese student's waist, knowing full well that Kanda couldn't physically maim him for such an intimate but staged touch in front of a whole fucking audience. Still, he was a little surprised when Kanda touched his left hand, where no one could see.

Kanda turned his head and looked back at him, dark eyes glittering.

_'I could have done this with Lenalee.'_

"Sprout." It was Kanda again, whispering to him. "The music's starting." His eyes were hazy under the bright lights.

Impulsively, Allen whispered back, "I wanted Lenalee to be Jasmine. That's what."

Kanda stiffened under his hands.

"Well," Allen continued quietly, "it wouldn't have worked out so well in the end, I guess."

There was a pause after Allen's words, and all he could see of Kanda was the back of his head, dark hair and all. Then: "Of course not. You're a sprout."

"Ah-ah," and there was a grin in Allen's voice despite himself, "it's _Aladdin._"

The Song started.

And later, when the musical ended, the Earl would toss up his top hat, arms spread, and declare that he was ready to leave this world because _not only have I successfully pulled off this musical, I have also tamed the great Kanda Yuu! May you all live forever! Candies and rainbows and puppies to everyone! _Rhode would pat Allen's back hard and gracefully embrace all of her admirers. Alma would skulk in the background, holding the stuffed Iago in front of his face and blushing whenever anyone complimented his performance.

And Allen and Kanda would look at each other and smiled because Kanda hadn't missed any of his lines (for the most part) and Allen had been in the musical just like he wanted, even if it hadn't been what he expected.

"Still want to die?" Rhode asked.

"Bloody hell _no,_" Allen laughed.

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**A/N: **A week later, the Earl decided to direct another Disney musical. Kanda and Allen steered clear of this one.

Just kidding. Sort of.

So I guess this ending was a bit abrupt, but I wanted to get this done and over with. And besides, I made it clear (I think) that this wouldn't have established Yullen.

Well, folks. This chapter marks the start of my Bleached Ink hiatus. Do not fret! I will still update Of Faceted Interests once a month, and I promise that this hiatus will not be for an entire fucking year or more. Give or take a few months, guys. Give or take. So...see you guys later!

As always, reviews are appreciated.

**vampire-charmer-101: **I've actually stopped following other DGM stories, but I'm glad that people still read and appreciate Bleached Ink. **waterlit: **I have a lot of fun incorporating different styles and formats in writing. I've never written a script before, so... **The Only Princess: **I hope so too, but for now, I must pull an Atlas and balance my world on my shoulders. **Marlene: **My Disney movie life would be The Little Mermaid. And I would be Sebastian. ...Just kidding. Kind of.


	63. Endings

**Title:** Endings

**Genre:** Romance/Drama

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Allen smiled, laced his fingers in Kanda's hair. "So help me write the ending."

**Disclaimer:** Don't own.

**Notes:** This is it. Last chapter. Forever.

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_happy endings imply an end_

_that's why they say happily ever after_

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He sat up fast, clutching the pillow in his arms like a lifeline. "Demons," he said, resisting the urge to pump his fist in the air because he hadn't had any ideas for _so _long, and here it was, lovely and gorgeous and still abstract, still forming in his mind, but _here it was. _Already he could picture a half-formed world, gray and hidden in the darkness of space matter. "People can be turned into demons, evil spirits, something like that. Demons that can level up and disguise themselves."

"That's awful," Kanda snorted from the other side of the room.

Allen ignored his boyfriend's comment. "No," he said aloud, "no, that's too simple. There should be a...lord of the underworld? Some kind of evil guy, with a deceiving smile and goddawful appearance. English, of course, with a top hat. Gentleman-like. He'll trick people into...bringing back the dead, except the dead would become demons and possess bodies!"

"And let me guess," Kanda cut in again sarcastically, "there's a secret organization that can kick out demons from humans, all with the power of friendship and love."

Allen frowned. "No. Well, yes to the secret organization, but no to the friendship and love. This isn't going to be a happy story."

"Why not? You like happy stories. You have sunshine coming out of your ears all the fucking time."

Pursing his lips, Allen chucked the pillow at his boyfriend who was sitting at the dining table, reading the morning newspapers. Kanda barely raised an eyebrow as the pillow slid across the table and over the article he was scanning. The lack of reaction irked Allen and he snapped, "Shut up."

"Make me," the Japanese man sniffed.

Instead of rising to the challenge, Allen rolled over on the sofa, despairing. "Give me my pillow back," he said into the sofa, his voice muffled. "It's my thinking pillow. I need to plan the rest of the story."

Kanda generously threw the pillow back without another word.

Cuddling the pillow against his chest, Allen let the words come to him. "Paper," he said.

Kanda threw one of the many notebooks scattered around the house vaguely in the direction of the living room, not bothering to look up from the newspaper. And before Allen could say anything else, Kanda added a pencil for good measure. It landed on the ground and Allen scowled momentarily before unwinding himself from the pillow and reaching down to grab both the notebook and pencil. Flipping through the contents, he mused, "Oh hey, I found the draft of that experimental sex scene I wrote."

"What sex scene?"

"You know, the one that I didn't add to _Clowns of Glory_."

"That was a terrible book."

"You think all of my books are terrible."

With a shrug, Kanda deftly folded the newspaper in front of him and folded his arms. Tilted his head to look at Allen. "So?"

"So what?" Allen tapped the eraser end of the pencil against his chin, musing. The eraser moved up from his chin to rest briefly on his lips. Kanda eyed the eraser for a moment and smirked—pity that Allen missed the expression, though.

"Who's the _hero?_"

"Um... Someone young. Maybe a teenager."

"Pfft. Teenagers that think they can take on the world."

"Weren't you like that as a teenager?"

Kanda made an impatient hand gesture. "The world's been bowing at my fucking feet since I was born."

"Of course," came the dry answer. The white-haired man propped the notebook on his knees and scrawled something. "But definitely a teenager. A member of the organization. And he personally lost someone to a demon. Or something. I can figure the details out later..."

"Is there going to be some prophecy?" Kanda asked.

"Prophecy?"

"Like he's The One who will save the world or shit like that."

"That's," Allen frowned, "that's so predictable. And cliché. And boring, almost. I think I'd like it better if it were completely impossible for him to save the entire world. The organization can be really desperate and everything, with members dying every day."

Kanda rose from his seat and stretched languidly. "So have both," he said, massaging a shoulder. "A hero who won't be able to save the world."

"But how am I supposed to end a story like that?" Allen fretted.

"Kill everyone off. Let the world get overrun by demons."

Allen buried his head in the pillow. "Maybe I'll be better off with a romance novel," he mumbled. Then he lifted his head quickly, tossing his bangs out of his face. "That's it!"

"What's it?" Kanda came over and gingerly sat on the seat across from Allen, crossing his long legs and eyeing his boyfriend with a dark, wary look.

"The protagonist," Allen said distractedly as he scribbled down more notes in his notebook, "will have various friends and sidekicks, you know, and there'll be this one guy who pisses him off more than anyone else."

The Japanese man arched an eyebrow. "And they fall in love?"

"Well..." Allen glanced at Kanda slyly. "I wouldn't say that they're going to fall in love, but they'll definitely be very interested." The notebook and pencil were dropped on a nearby table and Allen ambled over, pillow still in his arms, and he sat on Kanda's lap. Nudged his legs further apart so that Allen could sit comfortably. "And there's all this angst that I can explore since they both have to, you know, fight demons and save the world. Both of their lives would be in danger all the time."

Long arms wrapped around Allen's waist. "Are you going to kill them off in the end?" Kanda asked, very seriously.

"Maybe." Grin.

"Bastard." Eye roll.

Allen smiled, laced his fingers in Kanda's hair. "So help me write the ending."

Kanda didn't say anything until after he pulled Allen closer and kissed him. "Gladly," he murmured against lips. And smirked. "You can write one of your awful sex scenes."

"They're not _that _bad."

"Trust me, they're horrible."

…

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* * *

**A/N: **I'm throwing in the towel. I'm retiring from the DGM fandom (possibly forever) and from writing fanfiction (for a long time).

There's a lot of reasons for my "retirement," the more important ones being that I've lost most of my interest for DGM a long time ago and that writing fanfiction has become a chore. So I'm taking off. I won't be seriously writing for a while, but I'll still hang around the fringes, scribble something here and there, etc. So this is the last chapter of _Bleached Ink, _and I plan on ending _Of Faceted Interests _in the next chapter too.

Thanks to all of you who stuck by thick and thin. Thank you for all of your favorites, alerts, reviews, you name it. _Bleached Ink _lasted longer than I thought it would, and I hope you guys enjoyed reading.

So long.

**copycat-capycot**


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